


Angels and Mirrors

by EvergreenTea_1998



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angels being assholes, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Character Death, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Baggage, Finding Ones Self, Friendship/Love, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), I'm terrible with tags so bare with me, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Insecurity, Magic Mirrors, Newt and Anathema are Married, Other, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, fluff (there is no smut or any of that), love through time, mute character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvergreenTea_1998/pseuds/EvergreenTea_1998
Summary: Newt thought it would have been a good idea to surprise Anathema with a gift for their upcoming anniversary, an antique hand-held mirror, that he had found at an antique store; however, upon buying it everything seemed to go wrong. Ever since he bought the mirror, neither of them had a restful night sleep, from nightmares, vivid dreams, and ill omens plaguing them. Anathema and Newt eventually conclude it is a good idea to rid themselves of it for some time which, they know who exactly to leave it with: Aziraphale and Crowley.Upon Aziraphale and Crowley getting the mirror in their possession, they soon discover that the mirror had more to it than what meets the eye.
Kudos: 6





	1. The Gift that Just Keeps Giving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stars will be placed next to things that might need a bit of explaining; there are a few stars in this chapter. If anyone is wondering what they are, there is another note section at the bottom explaining them.

Something wasn't right and Anathema and Newt both knew that, for the last few weeks there was something in the air both couldn't quite pin down, but that didn’t mean Anathema had any theories. It had all started a day or two after their anniversary, they had exchanged gifts they had bought for one another for the occasion after a nice dinner out that Newt had arranged.

They had both gone through the trouble to buy that one perfect gift for their significant other; searching various stores in secret and, hiding the gifts away somewhere their significant other wouldn't look. Anathema had purchased a new watch for Newt, since his older one had broken some time ago. It was a nicer one than the one his previous watch; the newer watch was water resistant since that’s how the last one wound up broken.

The gift that Anathema had received was something she had been looking for but, hadn’t had the time to search for it since her priorities were set on purchasing Newt his gift and making sure it arrived on time in the postage. She had been so caught up waiting for it to arrive to hide it without Newt getting curious about an unknown parcel that miraculously ended up on their front doorstep.

As she unwrapped the gift, she removed the tissue paper to reveal a small, hand held mirror; which she was in absolute awe from how unique it was, honestly Newt had gone a bit above and beyond with the mirror, not buying a simple one made of plastic but, something with a bit of age to it. Anathema had been looking for a hand-held mirror for some time since hers had shattered when it fell from the edge of her vanity table and onto the floor.

When Anathema had first seen the mirror Newt had gotten her, she was in absolute awe of it and didn't want to use it right away in fear of dropping it and breaking it like she had done with the previous mirror she had owned.

The mirror was an old, iron-bodied relic that was painted silver; however, the paint chipped in some area and revealed the dulled metal beneath. Despite the somewhat rough shape of the mirror, it was something of a piece of art in how it was crafted; the delicate designs along the handle, back, and boarder around the freckled surface of the mirror were beautiful. Just by the way it was made and how it looked, she concluded it was made somewhere between the late 1890s and 1920's just by the craftsmanship alone. 

Newt never disclosed where he had bought the mirror and or, disclosed any other information surrounding it besides that he had bought it from an antique shop a few towns over from Tadfield; however, he couldn't remember the name of the place or what town it was since it was a long time ago when he bought the mirror. The only thing he seemed to recall about the place was that it felt weird walking around since no one greeted him when he came inside; he merely walked the narrow aisles of shelves that seemed like a never-ending labyrinth. Newt claimed he bought it and, that was that. He wrapped the gift up and kept it in his car underneath a few quilts and stuff in the boot of his car for a while before their anniversary.

Anathema loved the gift and was careful when using it; however, something became apparent that something was wrong with it. The first time she was using the mirror to check to make sure her hair was tucked into a neat bun was when she saw something she couldn't explain. It was all for a split second when she moved the mirror to face her, the window behind her was visible, but there was also someone else there. She turned to see if the person was still there, but they were gone, Anathema assumed it was her imagination playing tricks on her; however, there were other instances to tack on to it not being her imagination.

One of the many instances was the strange feeling that enveloped the house not to long after their anniversary; Newt was oblivious to it at first, but soon noticed the change in atmosphere. It was a pulsing sadness that suffocated and drained everything around it, eating away at Newt and Anathema in different ways.

The seeping feeling of isolation and dread was another thing that began to slowly creep its way in as well, draining them both emotionally and sometimes physically as the day when on. Often, they found themselves sitting outdoors just to relief the heavy feeling pinning them down. It seemed to subside if they were away from the house for extended periods of time; however, upon returning the aura of the place seeped into their very beings.

In many ways, the feeling was like that of loss, either of a loved one of friend. The feeling just encased the house like it was in a bubble of some kind. There were some areas that were well intense as others but, the worst room would be were the mirror was. Moving it just shifted the energy somewhere else; eventually Newt and Anathema just sealed it away in a box with magic seals, but those seemed to fade very quickly after a short period of time.

Another instance was the drain that ate away at them from lack of sleep. Neither Anathema nor Newt could explain the phenomenon's that occurred in their dreams that followed their anniversary. They found themselves sleep deprived from the sheer lack of sleep that plagued them; it had started with Anathema but, progressively affected Newt as well as the days went on.

Anathema and Newt never had problems sleeping before, but whatever was happening to them as of late; they found it harder to stay asleep for long. Nightmares and terrors stirred them awake every night and found they found it hard to sleep after that; often they found themselves staring at the ceiling until sunrise. Sleeping during the day did little to no help for them either if they were in the house; they often found themselves sleeping in the car for a short time just to sleep peacefully.

They had no idea what the dream was about, but they could agree that there was someone screaming, which caused them to start awaking in a cold sweat with their hearts pounding in their chests. The screaming individual always sounded muffled with their screams emphasized with a sickening gargle that sounded like they were drowning.

Lights would flicker occasionally, but it wasn’t very noticeable at first, perhaps a bit of a dimming of the light here and there before it resumed to normal. A few other electrical appliances seemed to get tampered with by whatever invisible entity was present; most of the appliances affected would simply seize to have an issue after a few moments. The radio and TV were two appliances that got affected if they were on when the phenomenon occurred.

Anathema and Newt had noticed that the channels on the radio and TV would change frantically without anyone touching. It would linger for a few moments before static would fill the channel before it switched. During the various phenomena with the lights, they had also noticed that the radio and TV’s lights would dim ever so slightly before growing quite bright to the point they would hum like they were about to pop.

The knob on the radio would shift to various channels and play only a few with talk shows or a bit of music playing; however, it was too garbled to make out anything. Newt was the first one to notice the radio acting up. He thought at first that he was responsible for it acting up since his luck with technology, including computers and various other devices, was rather piss poor. The device, upon turning it on, was silent with a small popping noise to that of an old record dancing along a player; he tried maneuvering the antenna of the radio to see if it was the signal but, that did nothing to assist the problem. The thing continued to emit the same sound through the various channels that he turned it to.

When the lights began to flicker was when the radio started jumping channels, changing from classical stations to broadcasts; speaking through hissing speakers as lighted bar at the top were the tuner was glowed dimly and changed brightness as it continued on. Thank goodness the volume wasn’t affected, or he would have been deafened by the high screech that squawked through the tinny speakers before it ended.

Anathema had experienced a similar situation with the radio following that incident. The radio was unplugged from the wall this time around when it had happened; Newt still thought that he had broken it somehow even though it worked fine after the incident, hence he had unplugged it. Anathema had assumed that whatever was causing all this to happen was trying to communicate somehow, but why was the answer. Even if the radio was trying to communicate something, Anathema nor Newt really knew what it had said. They had noticed the radio had The TV had done the same thing but, it was a bit different.

Anathema and Newt first noticed the TV changing channels one evening when trying to sit down and relax; trying to watch a movie they were playing on the various channels that where on. They found the channels started changing on their own even with the remote in front of them on the coffee table. The TV would play channels that were older than what was supposed to be on; primarily playing old news broadcasts, films, or various TV series or sitcoms that were in either black and white or a they were in a dingy color palate like that of older, boxy TV set. The colors didn’t line up well on modern TV at all; making the screen blur in unusual ways due to the cameras and film used during those times, but it made no sense on why they would be playing on a channel that didn’t play these sorts of things.

Anathema and Newt could understand re-runs of classic shows and films on different channels that adhered to playing older media; however, old news broadcasts were a different scenario all together. The only reason they would ever show old news clips on TV were on news segments about passed events, the news channel cast, and other various reasons, but it wasn’t the full coverage of events that happened several years ago. Anathema and Newt were a bit lost on the clips of old media broadcasts that danced across the screen before them; no station would play these deliberately, but even after the frantic channel changing they could not locate half the channels that played.

Anathema had her suspicions that the mirror had something to do with the changes in her and Newt’s life for some time. She had assumed that the mirror might have been haunted by some form of spirit, which she had no idea what type she was dealing with besides the fact it had an alarming influence on the area it accompanied. There were many empty answers on their end when it came to what was happening; it didn’t help either that they were sleep deprived reading through various books in a last ditch effort to put their remaining, working brain-cells together to form one mind.

Anathema was hunched over various books and old scrolls with her glasses slowly slipping down the bridge of her nose. Dark circles hung underneath her tired eyes as they closed and opened instantly; trying to keep away with whatever strength she has left. Newt was sitting with his legs crossed on the floor every fiber of his body aching to keep upright; he was on his fourth cup of coffee just to stay up to read through the ridiculously thick volumes of magic and supernatural books she had.

Newt rubbed his eyes with his glasses shifting slightly as he sat there and glanced up at Anathema.

“Find anything?” Newt asked with a whine. “I really don’t know what I’m looking for here?”

Anathema removed her glasses for a moment and rubbed her eyes; the tired expression drawn over her face. The lines on her face becoming more prominent on her face; she took a long sip of her cold tea sitting besides her that used to be warm, but she got caught up in reading and forgot it was next to her. Her face twitched with distaste from the cold tea.

“Found a few things but, nothing that I can specifically pinpoint.” She explained and let out a small sigh of frustration. “Newt we are looking for what spirit it might be, I really can’t get a proper reading on whatever this thing is besides sadness.”

Newt pushed up his glasses and looked down at the book in his hand before looking back up at Anathema.

“Anathema I thought you could sense auras?” Newt asked. “How is this any different, you have read other people aura’s before?”

Anathema turned her head to face Newt, her eyes were dripping with exhaustion. She knew that that was going to be one of the questions asked eventually. Anathema could sense auras, she could make them quiet easily; she may have not gotten the hint about Adam being the Anti-Christ and Dog until it was almost too late, but she knew about the other supernatural beings that she had met two years ago. She could read their aura’s after some time being around both when they would have holiday and other celebratory get-togethers at each-others houses.

She knew the difference quite well, now that she had been around a few supernatural beings, she could tell when something didn’t quite match or fit them. Anathema knew demonic and angelic energies and how they were different than most human souls and energies. However, her knowledge seemed to be lacking when it came to whatever this being was.

Its aura was all over the place, sorrow was one of the defining points of it, and they both could whole heartedly agree on that one thing. There were waves of fury that came and went but, it was subtle tension. It never was too pungent in any way to cause Newt and Anathema to bust out in arguments, instead it felt like tension to that of the silence before the storm. Many of the other undertones were hidden, making it impossible for her to find one simple answer; the one thing that she could pick up on was a heartbeat of energy that seemed unearthly but human at the same time.

She theorized the unearthly bit was some disembodied spirit that had attached itself to the mirror that Newt had bought. It was probably a spirit of someone who suffered with depressive thoughts and feelings. When they died the feelings never truly faded but manifested in the mirror for all eternity, which, explained the nightmares and ill omens around them as of late.

Newt had theorized that they were some sad individual whose family member had passed away or they were sick and couldn’t break the news before they died. Whatever the reason may be that they were there, they only had one option: and that was communication.

* * *

Anathema had noticed that the spirit tried communication through various technological devices but never came through all the way, meaning their strength was weak in that aspect but, not in others. The best way Anathema could explain her hypothesis to a half sleeping Newt was that the ghost was like a broadcasting antenna but, the signal was weak in other eras when it was stronger in others.

Newt found himself nodding along with his eyes shut slightly; his head hurt, and he could barely stay up at this point, he was on the verge of just collapsing from exhaustion. His head shot up when he heard her through half her explanation say _“contact”._

“Anathema for the love of god, don’t communicate with this thing, just seal it up; we know this thing isn’t right so why communicate with it?!” His voice wavered slightly, teetering like his state of consciousness at that moment on the floor with the books all laid out before him.

She shot Newt a look.

“If you can remember how sealing the thing worked the last time?”

Newt nodded to that, he recalled when they tried sealing the thing in a wooden box to stop the energy from seeping out into the house. Anathema had read about sealing items and spirits in boxes with candle wax and a crystal; she had read about encasing spirts through various wiccan websites that included information on Dybbuk boxes. Upon performing it, all seemed well for half the day before the seals failed and the energy was released again.

“You have a point but, do you think communicating with this thing might make it worse?” he said sounding unsure of himself.

“Well, it’s pretty bad right now so, unless we get to the bottom of this, we are going to be stuck like this; or we pass the mirror off to someone, but no one deserves this.” Anathema groaned. She did not want to sit around any longer with this spirit bothering; they had already taken up staying away from the house, but that was just allowing the problem to continue.

Newt let out a shuttered sigh.

“Please tell me you won’t do anything drastic Anathema; I really don’t want to be stuck with a pissed off ghost roaming about. It is bad enough already. I just don’t want to see it get worse for the both of us.”

Anathema nodded.

“I promise I won’t go and piss it off.” She assured Newt, taking his hand in hers, her hair falling in her face as she shifted to better face Newt.

She arranged her communication devices on the kitchen table and began trying to find the source of it all using different spiritual communication devices. Her eyes locked with Newt’s worried gaze.

“Okay, I trust you.”

Anathema had gathered her dousing rods and various other communication devices; she placed the utensils down on the kitchen table and let out a deep sigh. It had been ages since she had used any of these devices, she had stored them away in the upstairs crawlspace when her and Newt got married. She occasionally would bring them down at random times to investigate supernatural occurrences in the area; however, she had not pulled out all seven of the various instruments to investigate and communicate.

She lit various candles and created a space at the table to affectively use each one. Newt watched from afar, he had seen Anathema doing sessions before but, he still had no idea what to do if he was asked to participate. He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, blocking the hall slightly; he sipped his coffee and stared warily at Anathema and the mirror that she had brought down from the guest room that she had left it in.

Anathema held two spiritual rods placed in her hands, she explained the process aloud to the spirit; informing them if they crossed the right rod over the left it was yes, and vis-versa for no. Nothing came of it, which led her trying various others before she tried communication through a spirit board.

Anathema was hoping that the board would be a last-ditch effort to communicate with this entity. She did not always find the board effective enough due to other disturbances that could take place by other energies, but it was the last device she had available.

She placed the board before her and began the session, she began to triangle plastic piece of the board before saying anything.

"Who are you?" Anathema asked with her attention drifting to the ceiling and to the board. "You have been here for a while and I want to know who you are?"

The board’s plastic piece did not move, just a long beat of silence after her question. She reset the board to begin another question.

"Okay, how about why are you here?" she asked letting out a deep sigh and glancing up at Newt.

The board's triangle piece began to shuffle slightly under her fingers; gliding from letter to letter before stopping. Anathema mouthed each letter slightly, which appeared like her mouth was twitching as she muttered mutely to herself: W-H-Y

"Why?" Anathema muttered in a perplexed tone. She was wondering why the spirit decided to answer her question with another question, it did not make sense? She looked up at Newt with a confused look plastered on her face.

“What did it say?” Newt asked, he took a sip of his coffee and crossed his arms with a curious look in his eyes.

“It asked why?” she said with a cold shutter raking her body, Newt shuttered a bit at the sudden chill that appeared in the room. “Have no idea to respond to that besides continuing with why they are here?”

She reset the board.

"Yes, why are you here and what is it that ties you here?" she asked again, an uncertainty filling her; she did not know how it was going to react. “Is it the mirror or something else?”

The piece began to move again. It delicately danced across the polished wood of the board; Anathema’s breath hitched as she mouthed the next words the piece moved to: M-I-R-R-O-R.

“So, you are attached to the mirror then?” She muttered with another chill shaking her body. “The why part answers itself with the mirror but, the why you’re possessing the mirror is another question?”

Newt finally entered the kitchen but poured the remaining bit of coffee into the sink and putting his mug in the dish tub in the other side of the sink. His eyes were entranced on the board before Anathema, as well as the mirror resting on the table.

“So, they are possessing the mirror then?” Newt muttered, more to himself then Anathema.

Anathema nodded and turned to face Newt.

“It would seem so?” Anathema said and leaned back in her chair. Her attention snapped back to the board which, she reset the board and began the next question.

“What happened to you?” She asked. “You seem to be attached to this mirror so, there has to be a reason?”

The board did not move for a few minutes before shifting slowly, slower than the other replies before: C-U-R-S-E-D.

Anathema’s blood ran cold as she muttered the word to herself; she did not like where this session was going. Newt seemed to note her reaction and walked besides her and placing a hand on her shoulder; the reaction made her jump; she was so spaced out she had not realized he had walked over to her.

  
“Anathema, what did it say?” Newt asked and saw how Anathema starred at the board, her mouth twitching slightly as she tried to collect whatever mental nose-dive she was on.

“It said cursed,” she whispered.

Her eyes trailed up to look Newt in the face, her eyes were wide with the horrible realization they had a mirror that had a cursed being attached to it. Which meant that they were a spirit that was purposeful bound, but the reason was still unknown to both her and Newt. It could be anyone that is trapped inside, but by who was the strange part. Why go through the trouble to encase a person’s ghost in the mirror that seemed aware in some cases if things around them, hence they were able to use electrical to get through?

She assumed, on a whim, that they must have been someone important so someone who had wiccan abilities to seal them inside; however, even that seemed unlikely. There could have been a bleaker reason the individual was trapped; they could be some sort of advanced demon or demi-god that was sealed away for good reasoning?

She did not feel like it was a good idea to break the mirror and release it incase things turned for the worst; the last thing she needed was a cursed being possessing and killing people for kicks. Newt and Anathema had both seen the draining factors of this thing so, why trust it and release it?

“I think we need to do an exorcism on this thing but, I need time to prepare without this thing being here?” Anathema muttered, she had ended the session and turned her attention to Newt. “We also need to get some sleep as well without this thing interrupting, we need energy to get rid of the spirit in it.”

Newt shrugged.

“That sounds like a good plan but, we are we going to drop this thing off at?” Newt said weakly. “It has to be someone who doesn’t sleep or care to lose as much sleep as we have?”

Right as he said that an idea popped into Anathema’s head. She knew just the people for the job.

* * *

Not too far away in Soho, a cozily lit bookshop sat closed; rain continued to fall somewhat loudly but, it did not seem to bother Aziraphale or Crowley.

Aziraphale found himself shuffling between the shelves of his shop; busying himself by putting away numerous volumes he had pulled down to read in the last few days. Dust rose of the various shelves as Aziraphale puttered between them; carefully putting them back with gloved hands to ensure they were protected.

The puttering of rain could be heard behind the classical music that played on the old gramophone in the back room, the light crackles of the record could be faintly heard over the various classical symphonies; the needled bobbed slightly at a small, warped part in the record from years of being moved, smooshed, and slanted amongst various other records Aziraphale had stored away in a small set of cabinets under the various built-in shelves along the back wall.

Crowley was sprawled out on the sofa in the back room with his phone in front of him; browsing multiple websites to keep him mind busy until Aziraphale was finished so they could go to dinner; it was getting later in the evening and the weather had seized to clear up. Crowley peaked up over his phone to the window, seeing webbing droplets trail down the window; the deep grey sky above did not seem to break like the weather had reported. Crowley sighed and let out a small grumble and turned to see Aziraphale standing near the bookshelves close to the back door; his curly hair appearing to have been disturbed at some point, making his curls have a few fly-away hairs, which made Crowley smile.

It had been two years since the non-apocalypse, and both Crowley and Aziraphale had found themselves being more than they had in the last six-thousand years. Three months after the apocalypse that did not happen, they had found themselves sitting in the backroom of the shop confessing feelings for one another. Crowley would never have admitted to it, but his face had turned bright red when he said his feelings to Aziraphale, hoping he was not stepping ahead of himself; however, Aziraphale had the same reciprocating feelings.

Neither of them could care less about Heaven or Hell breathing down their necks since they were on retirement from their respective offices; giving Aziraphale and Crowley more time to be together without having to fake distain of one another like they did before. They were free to love one another without repercussions from their head offices since they scared them after the swap. They did occasionally bump into old coworker’s here and there but, they were not there to discuss business with either one of them since they mucked up their respective offices plan’s before.

For the past two years, Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves enjoying more of life; going out to the Ritz and spending nights in at each other’s flats enjoying time together and watching films on the tele. They were happy to be in a relationship, a couple. The did give each other space, but for the most part they were with one another quiet often.

Crowley was happy to see Aziraphale relax a bit and, be himself a bit more than he had with Heaven breathing down his neck: Aziraphale felt the same for Crowley, seeing how happier without Hell hovering over top of him. They were able to try new things as well that they never had the chance to try with the days of the apocalypse on them; as well as their head offices intruding on them.

One of the newer things was Aziraphale tried sleeping, even though his body was not used to it at all; he still tried it to see why Crowley liked to sleep when he would stay awake at his side in bed and read various novels with the lamp dimmed not to disturb Crowley. Aziraphale was not in anyway against sleeping like he was in the past; it was just his body would not let him sleep for more than a few hours.

Crowley had also tried a few new things, which included cooking and baking; he could not really cook or bake before but, he had gotten into it as a small side hobby. One of the main reason’s he picked up the hobby was so he could impress Aziraphale but, also so they both could cook and bake together. Crowley never really cooked or baked anything for himself since he never really ate, but he did occasionally sit down and enjoy eating something; however, it was usually because he was tempted to try it by Aziraphale.

But one of the main things that had become common amongst them was they were able to cuddle with one another and show romantic exchanges; they were able to hold hands and hug one another with the tension. There was a tender warmth to their interactions with one another; they respected one another’s boundaries and were happy with not crossing them until the other was comfortable. They were happier with kisses and hugs anyways.

Crowley was even surprised when Aziraphale updated a bit after the apocalypse when they started to kick off their romantic relationship.

One of the few things he updated was a small part of wardrobe. His wardrobe was, by all means, still outdated by twenty or so years, but it included a few things that were a change up to his normal suits. One of the modern touches were two sweaters he had bought, one was a light, cornflower blue and the other was a subtle rose color; they were like a few other sweaters he had owned, but the color was a bit of a change. Nothing else really changed besides a few new additions to his bowties; he still was dressed in the same old suits he had worn for the last one hundred to two hundred years.

Another touch of modern taste was that he purchased a television set. The tele, like many other Aziraphale had owned, was outdated by several decades at this point; however, that was Aziraphale’s preference, he enjoyed older things, including the new relic of a tele he had purchased at an antique store. Aziraphale had purchased an old boxy television set that had atrocious wood paneling along its sides, the tele looked like it had been ripped out of a 1970s or 80s home. The television set had wooden legs that lifted it off the ground, so it was not sitting on the floor or had to rest on a table. There was no remote for the tele, you had to get up manually change the channel which, Crowley got sick of him and Aziraphale having to get up and change the channel and turning it off; he miracled a remote that connected to the tele so they did not have to get up while watching TV to change channels or turn the tele off manually. Aziraphale thought that it was cheating to have a remote when it had knobs to do the same work on the face of the tele but, he seemed to let that slide.

Besides those small changes, everything was the same besides the kisses and cuddles that they both enjoyed when they were together.

Crowley shifted from his seat, so they were sitting up, he slipped his phone into his pocket and got up to get something to drink; there was brandy in crystal, liquor decanter on the nearby end table. He miracled a glass into his hand and poured a generous amount of the liquid into the glass and leaned back, taking a sip and watching Aziraphale standing between two shelves close to the back room. He could only make out his curls that peeped up from the gaps in the bookshelves were no books sat. Crowley could make out the soft murmurs of Aziraphale as he went from shelf to shelf with two books till in his hands.

“Everything alright angel?” Crowley called out. “I’d hate to rush you and all.”

“Oh, dear you’re not rushing me at all; I’m fine mind you, just trying to remember where these last two books go,” Aziraphale replied with a small huff of frustration.

Crowley could already visualize the small scowl on Aziraphale’s face as he stood there staring at the various books before him; tracing a delicate finger over spins of the books as he muttered the names of the books under his breath.

He could hear the faint shuffling of a stepping stool across the floor which, queued Crowley that he might need to help him. He set his drink down and sauntered into the shop, following the sound of faint, strained distress until he found him.

Aziraphale was standing on the stepping stood with his arm stretched up to a shelf that was just out of his reach. He was standing on the tips of his toes trying to reach up to put the last book in his hand away.

“You need some help angel?” Crowley offered.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley, his face tinted with irritation that just made him seem adorable.

“It is fine Crowley; I’m just having a bit of trouble reaching the top shelf is all.” Aziraphale explained as he turned back to the shelf and proceeded stretch up to reach the same shelf he had been trying to reach for the last few minutes.

“You can just miracle it up there you know, it won’t damage the book or anything.” Crowley pointed out. “That or you can just get a different ladder?”

“Crowley, I will not miracle this book up here, I just want to make sure I put it back properly so I can retrieve it if I want to reread it in the future!” Aziraphale huffed as his voice strained as he reached up again for the shelf. “As for the ladder, I will have to disconnect it from one of the various other tracks they are attached to above the shelves and carry it here to put this book away, which I’ll have to drag it back to its initial spot after I’m done with it.”

The only thing that could come to Crowley’s mind was that Aziraphale was being a stubborn bastard. He was just making it harder than it needed to be, but that was his angel. Crowley could not help but let a small smile creep on his face just by how ridiculous he was being about putting a book away properly.

“You’re sure about that?” Crowley asked as he crossed his arms and leaned into the bookshelf slightly. His sunglasses slid down his nose slightly to reveal his honey gold eyes that watched his boyfriend struggle on a stepping stool to reach a shelf he could not reach.

Aziraphale stopped his attempts to reach the shelf and sighed with defeat, turning to Crowley with the book still in his hand.

“Dear, I do believe you are right. I’m a tad bit short of the shelf.” Aziraphale murmured, realizing how silly he was being about the whole situation. “Would you help me put it up on the self-dear, it seems I’m being a bit of a stubborn fool?”

Crowley offered Aziraphale and hand and helped him off the stepping stool.

“Don’t worry about it Aziraphale, also you’re not a fool. A bit stubborn yes but, not a fool.” Crowley said with a shrug, but there was a hidden sense of sweetness behind his sarcastic delivery of final settlements.

Aziraphale could not help but smile softly as Crowley stepped up the small stools steps and easily slipped the book into the place Aziraphale had been trying to put it.

“Which books was it between?” Crowley asked, turning his head so he could look down at Aziraphale, who had circled to be at his side.

“I do believe it was between the two volumes in Egyptian my dear?” Aziraphale said with an unsureness in his tone. “I’m sad to say I don’t recall the exact placement of that book but, wherever you place it will be fine since I’ll remember now that I’ll have to get a ladder.”

Crowley slipped the book on the shelf and descended the stepping stool to see a small smile on Aziraphale’s face.

“So, Angel, question, how did you get that book down from up there when you could barely reach it in the first place?” Crowley asked as he turned to look up at the shelf.

Aziraphale thought for a moment before replying, he was remembering the last few days that mostly consisted of customers trying to buy books or them leaving them in places they were not supposed to be. Then he remembered.

“Oh, there was a customer who was trying to purchase it but left when I pulled out a price that they could not pay; they left it on counter and decided to add it to the multiple books I was interested in rereading.” Aziraphale explained, his hands tugging at the hem of his waistcoat. “I didn’t think I required a ladder to reach since I was able to reach the shelf before but, I believe now that when Adam recreated my corporation years ago me made me a few inches shorter on accident.”

Crowley had noticed the difference in Aziraphale’s height after the non-apocalypse but, did not really mention it since it was not an obvious issue; it took Crowley about four months after the non-apocalypse before he figured off what was off about Aziraphale.

Aziraphale, however noticed something else about himself since he got his corporation back; he had not noticed his height for some time but, he had noticed the difference in how his cloths fit on his corporation. He noticed that some of his cloths felt a bit snug; a bit of plush being added here and there that made his heart sink a tad bit at first. He knew Adam meant no harm when he had recreated his body for him on a whim; Adam did not know the exact details of his corporate, which explained the little bit of added fluff to his corporation, as well as the height difference as well. He did not blame him for the small changes in his form, rather he thanked him and was thrilled for just having his body back to begin with.

But there was a part of him that had wished that he were a bit less round when Adam snapped his body back into existence; the nagging words of old associates from Heaven ringing around his head from time to time only added to the discomfort he felt about his body. Crowley assured him that he was fine, that the assholes upstairs should not bother him; Crowley loved him no matter what, which made Aziraphale feel better about himself and boosted his confidence a bit.

“You’re not that short, or that different angel.” Crowley said. “You are you and I love you for that; perhaps Adam made a few hiccups when rebuilding your corporation, that doesn’t mean I see you any differently.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale into hug, wrapping his arms around him and planting a kiss on top Aziraphale’s head. A small smile and blush creeped across both Crowley and Aziraphale’s face. No matter how many times they received kisses or kissed one another; the giddy feeling never went away.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley and leaned into the hug, melting in his arms.

“That’s good to hear my dear,” Aziraphale said with sparkle in his eyes of adoration. The feeling that no matter what he was, he was still loved and adored by his significant other was a feeling that made his heart turn to goo and his head go a bit fuzzy.

“I’d hate to ruin the mood, but do you want to order take out from the sushi place or, do you want me cook?” Crowley asked, snapping Aziraphale out of the lovely trance he was in.

Aziraphale felt the loosening hold of Crowley’s arms; Aziraphale followed the same motion and took each other’s hands and held them in a gentled grasp. Aziraphale and Crowley’s locked, even with the sunglasses on, Aziraphale knew the adoration in those golden eyes.

“I’d like for us to cook dear; it has been a long time since we cooked a dinner together.” Aziraphale smiled and brought his hand to the side of Crowley’s face and cupped his cheek; Crowley leaned his head into the touch, which caused his glasses to slide down slightly.

“That sounds like a lovely idea angel, but what to cook is the question; you have anything in mind?” Crowley asked.

“I guess we can figure that out together,” Aziraphale said with his eyebrows furrowing with an unsure look on his face. “I do have a few cookbooks lying about we can use; they may be outdated but, they do have so many interesting recipes that I have been meaning to try for a while, but never really had the chance to.”

Aziraphale let out a small wiggle of excitement at the thought of cooking something new that he had not tried making before. A broad grin crossed Aziraphale’s face, which was so bright that it could have blind Crowley if he were not wearing his sunglasses. Crowley smiled back, taking in the pure bliss of happiness that encompassed them both in a tender warmth; they could have stayed like this forever.

They turned to head to the back room, but the sudden jingle of the front doorbell made them both turn to see who it was. Aziraphale shooed Crowley into the back so he could deal with the customer; motioning for Crowley to start looking into what they were going to cook for dinner which, Crowley did just that.

"I'm sorry we are closed." Aziraphale called out from the sea of shelves before him; it was like walking through a comfortable labyrinth.

Aziraphale wondered if he had locked the door, he knew for a fact he had flipped the sign to closed, but he was sure that him or Crowley locked the front door to the shop some time ago.

"Excuse me Mr. Fell?" came a familiar voice; it sounded so tired and worn that he had barely recognized it at first.

Aziraphale finally came to the front of the shop to see who his familiar sounding customer was. Standing before the check out counter, which was littered with various stacks of books, was Anathema. Anathema stood there dressed in a long raincoat and tall boots. A green plaid skirt could be seen under the hem of the raincoat; her shirt was covered by the high collar of the raincoat. Rain droplets trailed down the black, plastic-like material of the coat; her disheveled wet hair was pinned to her head. A few strands of wet hair stuck to her forehead; her glasses were freckled with drops of rain.

Aziraphale was quick to notice through the fogged lenses of her glasses that there was dark, pronounced circles under her eyes. The fatigued look of her body was another thing that he had noticed; she seemed frail, almost like she was cracked porcelain on the verge of shattering. She yawned slightly and seemed to shift her arm strangely which, Aziraphale had just noticed there was a paper parcel under her arm; he had not noticed it because he was more concerned about her physical state more than anything else. 

“Hello Anathema,” Aziraphale greeted which, Anathema turned around with a small shuffle. “Are you okay dear?”

Anathema yawned again; her face resumed the same exhausted mask she had on since he had first seen her. Aziraphale had noted that it was not her usual expression she usually wore when she came to visit, which, made Aziraphale a bit worried. He hoped that whatever the reason for her visit that he could help solve an issue she may have.

“Hello Mr. Fell, I’m doing the best I can at the moment is all,” She replied tiredly. “I wanted to ask you if you can do me a favor?”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow with an unsurety about the favor she was going to ask.

“A favor dear, what is this favor if I may ask?” Aziraphale questioned.

Anathema sighed.

“It’s a bit of a long story.” She yawned.

"Would you like to sit down and have a cup of tea, then you can ask that favor?" Aziraphale offered, he could see just by the state of her that sitting down would probably ease her a bit.

Anathema nodded weakly and followed Aziraphale into the backroom with her feet shuffling underneath her as she walked.

Crowley glanced up from one the various cookbooks he had miracled from Aziraphale’s flat upstairs to see Aziraphale walk into the back with Anathema trialing behind him. Her glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose to reveal the hollow look in her eyes. Crowley could tell just by one look that she was exhausted beyond belief which, he scooted over on the couch and closed the various cookbooks that he had opened on the coffee table in front of him; dinner plans could wait a little while longer.

"Hello book girl, how is everythin' going?" Crowley asked as she made her way to the sofa in a zombie-like state.

Anathema plopped down onto the sofa and set the parcel on the coffee table; she let out a deep sigh as her eyes rolled shut and sank into the sofa’s cushions.

"Eh," she replied.

"You doing okay, looks like yeah haven't slept in a while?" Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale stood there for a moment, glancing between Crowley and Anathema. Crowley gave him the same confused and worried expression; Crowley gave an exaggerated shrug about the whole situation. Aziraphale sighed and headed into the kitchen; he came back a few minutes later with two cups of tea. He set the cup in front of Anathema, who was fast asleep on the sofa; her head was tilted up towards the ceiling with her body lying limply against the plush sofa cushions.

Crowley got up from the sofa carefully and miracled her drenched raincoat off her and hung it up on the coat and hat rack near the door; Aziraphale snapped a large tartan quilt into existence and carefully placed it over her as she slept.

"She really was tired huh Angel?" Crowley said in a low tone, not to disturb Anathema as she slept.

Aziraphale frowned slightly as he sat down in his chair and took a sip of his tea; Aziraphale rested his chin on his closed fist, his arm resting along the worn spot on his armchair which he rested his elbow.

"Yes, it would seem that way dear boy, she looks rather rough and I feel it would be nice to let her sleep." Aziraphale replied, his eyes watching as Crowley made his way to an empty spot and miracled a black, leather, armchair that could fit two people comfortably.

Crowley sank into the chair with his hands gripping the armrests of the chair.

"Hmm," Crowley said and frowned slightly at Anathema and turning his attention to Aziraphale. "Do you think there is something wrong with her?"

Aziraphale took another sip of his tea and leaned back, trying to gaze deeper into her aura to see what was wrong; his eyes glossing over slightly in an unnatural hazy blue as he did so. He did not find anything out of place besides the fact that she was drained physically. He found it a bit odd to that she had a strange aura of sadness encompassing her, but it was a faint undertone to the overwhelming exhaustion that surrounded her.

"She's just tired by dear, I think we should leave her be for a bit." Aziraphale explained, his eyes returning to there clear blue that Crowley adored.

" I agree with you angel, I think she just needs some sleep."

* * *

Anathema awoke three hours later with a fresh sense of rest filling her body; it was nice to have been able to sleep restfully, even if it was for a few hours. She looked around the back room of the bookshop in a daze; Aziraphale was sitting across from her reading a book as Crowley was sleeping in a chair that had not been there when she arrived. The drapes were drawn shut, the few lamps in the back room having been turned on to produce a dim glow and sharp shadows along the walls of the room.

Anathema got up and yawned slightly, the quilt sliding off her as she sat up properly.

"Oh, your awake dear, how did you sleep?" Aziraphale asked, looking up from his book with an always warming smile on his face as he set his book aside to focus on her.

"Good, sorry about that, I just haven't slept well in the last few days." Anathema began with a more energized tone than before, she sounded at least refreshed in a sense, which was a good sign.

"I could tell dear, you look awful. Is there anything I can get you?" Aziraphale asked as he looked on the verge of leaping from his chair at any minute.

She shook her head weakly.

"N-no thank you," she began. " I just wanted to come by and ask you for a favor it all, I didn’t mean to fall asleep or anything like I did, and I’m sorry about that."

Anathema frowned slightly at that, she really did not mean to crash like she had; she thought she had enough strength to get in and out without toppling over from exhaustion.

Aziraphale's eyebrow raised slightly.

“Oh, your fine dear, Crowley and I both knew you were tired, so we let you sleep as long as you needed.” Aziraphale said in a reassuring tone. “But back to this favor you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you if you can hold onto something for a few days until Newt and I can get a bit of well-deserved rest. You see Newt bought me a gift for our anniversary; however, I do believe that it is cursed."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at that.

"How did he get this gift if I may ask?" Aziraphale questioned, leaning forward with interest.

Anathema shrugged.

"He bought it from an antique store outside Tadfield, he does not remember where he had bought it." She explained with a yawn overtaking her.

Anathema sighed and leaned forwards slightly and buried her face in her hands. 

"Why do you wish to leave me with this dear?" Aziraphale asked, he could see she was in distress but, why him of all people?

"I remember you saying some time ago that you didn't need sleep since you are an ethereal being. All I am asking is if you can just hang onto this for four or so days. After that I'll come and pick it up once I have an idea of how to break whatever curse or spirit is attached to this by performing an exorcism on it.” Anathema explained, it almost sounded like a plead for him to just hold onto it.

“I’ll make it up to you if you just hold on to it until Newt and I get some well-deserved sleep to sort out the exorcism bit. I have not slept well in days, weeks even, so _please_ just hold onto this this before Newt and I both loose our minds.”

She could feel tears prickling out of the corners of her eyes. 

"I'll take it in for a few days dear, as long as you need." Aziraphale said with a calming tone, he knew Anathema was in distress and really wanted to help.

Anathema smiled with relief, she almost looked to be in tears; Aziraphale could see the beginning of tears tricked down from her eyes.

"Thank you." She muttered in a voice that sounded close to a cry.

* * *

Aziraphale was not told what the item he would be looking after was, Anathema left the parcel and thanked him again for holding onto this item until she got some well-deserved sleep. She had already informed Aziraphale that her and Newt were staying at a hotel in the area until they got enough strength back to drive to Tadfield to cleanse their house before bringing the item back to be exorcised.

Aziraphale made sure the door was locked before heading into the back room of the bookshop to see Crowley had woken up; his hair was disheveled from sleep and his glasses had become crooked, revealing his golden serpent eyes underneath them. Crowley ran a hand through his long hair and found his focus trailing to Aziraphale.

“Book girl left?” Crowley asked with a tired grumble.

“Yes dear, she just left a few minutes ago.” Aziraphale replied and snapped his fingers so the blanket on the sofa was nicely folded before sinking in his armchair.

Crowley’s eyes trailed about the room until his eyes landed on the parcel on the coffee table.

“Hey Aziraphale, you are aware that she left something here, right?” Crowley asked as he motioned to the parcel on the table.

Aziraphale nodded.

“Yes, dear she is aware,” Aziraphale explained. “She asked for me for a favor, she asked if I’d hold onto it for a while. She didn’t tell me what it is, all she said was that it was cursed.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at that.

“So, she gave you a cursed item to look after?” Crowley asked. “If you wanted to know what it is, you can open it and just put it back after you’re done?”

“No, you wily serpent, I won’t open it, “Aziraphale said in discontentment at the idea of opening a parcel containing a cursed item that could be dangerous to handle; he had already seen the state of Anathema and could only imagine the damage it would do it opened. “You saw Anathema and how this thing affected her, do you really with the same to happen to us?”

“Okay, fine, was just messing with you angel, you can calm down.”

Aziraphale huffed slightly.

“I think it is to late to make dinner; if you want, I can whip up some popcorn and we can watch a film and think of something else besides that parcel for a bit?” Crowley shrugged. “We can sit down and watch something you want to watch; it is your turn to pick after I picked the last one?”

Aziraphale considered the offer for a moment, it was his turn to pick a film out since he had picked the last film; plus, with the weird circumstances of their day, watching one of the various films on TV seemed like a good idea.

“That sounds lovely my dear, also you can’t complain like you did the last time.” Aziraphale replied with a smile on his face.

Crowley rolled his eyes about the last film Aziraphale picked; he did not want to have to remember the stupid love triangles of the main characters as well as the awful way they dealt with it as the film progressed on.

Crowley and Aziraphale headed up the narrow staircase to Aziraphale’s flat, snapping their fingers to turn of the lights in the bookshop and to turn on the nearest lamp in Aziraphale’s living room.

Aziraphale’s flat was one of the many things that Aziraphale very rarely, if ever, changed. Aziraphale had miracled the space a bit to accommodate a few furnishings and all so it appeared normal to humans; however, one would quickly note how outdated it was.

Upon entering his flat, one was greeted by a small hallway which, connected the dining room and a small cozy living space together. The living space was decorated with an ancient sofa, armchair, coffee table, and end tables looked straight out of a Victorian setting. Needle embroidered pillows rested on the sofa and chair with depictions of different tapestries on them. A large rug decorated the floor, a coffee table rested in the middle of the rug with a few random coasters that did not match resting on the ancient wood. Like downstairs, a plethora of books rested upon cramped shelves or in tall, wobbling stacks that could tip over at any minute. The one thing that seemed out of place was the TV set, which rested in the corner.

There was a doorway that led into the dining room that was decorated with a china cabinet filled with various antique dishes and other tableware. A simple table rested in the middle of the dining space with four chairs seated around it with red cushioned seats. The kitchen was attached to the dining room and was rather small but could easily fit two people comfortably. The main hall that broke up the space had another hall attached to it on the Left side near to the entrance to the dining room. The hall off from the main hall had only three rooms branching off from it.

The first room was the lavatory with the second room being the bathroom containing another modern touch, which was a shower. Since Crowley preferred showers over baths and Aziraphale refused to get rid of the tub, they decided to compromise and have a standing shower added to the bathroom along side the bathtub to accommodate them both.

The last room was the bedroom, which was another outdated thing. He had not really changed much in there since he opened the shop; there was a comfortable, but old bed with various old furnishings like a chifforobe* with shelves and drawers built into one side of it. There was another wardrobe in his room but, it mostly contained clothes that Crowley had brought over and left there when he spent the night.

The old oak floors creaked with every step, the old wooden trimming along doorways, walls, and ceilings just added to the ancient touches of his flat; wood paneling on the walls came waist-height. Emerald Green* wallpapering, which Aziraphale miracled to be non-toxic so guests would not get ill, decorated the walls of his flat; Aziraphale new the wallpapering contained arsenic, but he liked the color so he miracled out the toxic part of it. He miracled the color to remain the same bright shade after that ingredient was taken out which, made it non-lethal.

Crowley always thought that miracleing the arsenic out of wallpapering was Aziraphale just being stubborn and not wanting to change something he liked; Crowley assumed he just wanted to keep the color the way it was since he adored the vividness of it, and probably since he did not want to have to tear wallpaper down either.

It was the same reason Aziraphale kept a lot of the things the same for so long; if Crowley hand not informed him of things that contained asbestos and other toxic materials, Aziraphale would have likely discorporated a long time ago. Aziraphale did miracle safer materials into place after Crowley informed him of those hazards, which made his place a little bit safer than it was before.

Crowley closed Aziraphale’s front and hung up his jacket on the coat rack next to the door; Crowley snapped his fingers and instantly was dressed in a pair of fleece lounge pants and a large shirt that hung off his figure.

“I would say make yourself more comfortable dear but, it seems you have.” Aziraphale chuckled at the sight of Crowley in a large baggy shirt with a large graphic design of some random characters that Aziraphale did not recognize.

“I’ll start the popcorn up; you can take your time angel.” Crowley said planting a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek, which made a bright pink blush appear on his face, and a woozy feeling in his head and heart.

Crowley felt his face flush a bright pink as well when Aziraphale pecked him on the cheek with a kiss before disappearing down the hall to bedroom.

Crowley chuckled slightly at the reaction from Aziraphale and went to the kitchen to start making the popcorn for whatever film they were watching. He shook the pan a bit and waited for the kernels to start popping before he turned on the burner for the butter.

Eventually popcorn was done and Aziraphale was planted on the sofa in his tartan pajamas with the TV turn on; Crowley plopped down on the sofa next to him and miracled a large blanket that covered them. Aziraphale leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder and began searching the channels before landing on one playing a movie that Crowley knew he was picking at random; and of all things it had to be a period piece.

Crowley groaned internally at the thought of having to sit and watch another period piece set in an era he and Aziraphale both lived in; Crowley did not want to sit through an hour or two of women and men in stuffy clothing arguing about aristocracy of the family, murder, betrayal, and all that. Even if he did not like it, he still sat through it for Aziraphale’s sake; Crowley still preferred to comedies over tragedy when it came to any sort of entertainment while Aziraphale was the opposite; Aziraphale preferred the tragedies with a smidge of comedy occasionally to spice things up a bit.

Eventually the film ended, the popcorn was pretty much all gone, and they sat there snuggled against one another. Aziraphale was stroking Crowley’s hair as he slept, his face peaceful in the dim light the TV gave off; Aziraphale removed his glasses and set them on the table besides him. He snapped his fingers, so the popcorn bowl was in the sink with the remaining popcorn having been disposed of.

Aziraphale turned off the TV and laid back into the plush sofa and closed his eyes; he felt tired for some unknown reason and decided that he would try lulling himself off to sleep like Crowley always did. His mind eventually fell into a deep slumber but, that slumber did not last too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those wondering what a chifforobe* is, it is like a wardrobe with shelves and drawers for all sorts of clothing articles. Its kinda like if you put a wardrobe, shelf, and a dresser into a blended and that's how you get the chifforobe.
> 
> note: Arsenic was used in the color known as Emerald Green*, or Paris Green, it was popular in the 1800s and was rather toxic. There was also a lot of other toxic materials that were used in many Victorian or 1800s homes, asbestos was used in a lot of older building and was also used in fabrics and as insulators as well; an example would be the use of asbestos around piping for boilers to insulate it. ( Didn't mean to give anyone a history lesson if I did, I just like history so I thought I would add historical references and old furnishings for fun).


	2. Somethings Off

Aziraphale had awoken to Crowley jumping awake with a small, distressed cry escaping him. The only reason Aziraphale had woke up was because Crowley accidently dug his elbow into Aziraphale’s side when he was startled awake.

Aziraphale mouth an ow, the dull pain of his boney elbow planting itself into his side throbbed slightly; however, that could be forgotten for the time being. His attention turned to Crowley, who was shaking with his arms wrapped around himself. Aziraphale could make out Crowley’s hunched figure in the dim light that was emitted from the TV; Aziraphale wanted to get a better look at him so he turned on the lamp on the end table next to him and turned off the TV.

He could see how Crowley’s hands gripped his thin arms with such intensity that his knuckles appeared white; his nails digging into the flesh of his arm and left reddened indentions along his skin. Aziraphale hated seeing him like this, the way how his lover stared off into an oblivion that he could not see; tears trickled down his face breathing in and out shaken, uneven breaths that racked Crowley’s entire body.

This was by far from the first time Aziraphale had seen Crowley like this; his night terrors were something that Aziraphale had noticed when they had gotten together after the non-apocalypse. Crowley would often leap awake or fuss in his sleep-in states like this; Aziraphale had found it wise to not try to wake him. He knew how Crowley was when he was like this, waking him up just caused him to panic more so he let him wake up on his own to comfort him when he came to. The strange thing was that his was his first night terror in a long time. Crowley’s night terror episodes had grown less and less till they very rarely happened anymore as time went on; however, whatever the reason was this time made Aziraphale curious.

Aziraphale rested a hand on Crowley’s shoulder which, caused Crowley to jump at the contact and turned his head slowly to see Aziraphale.

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed with a heartache in his chest; he pulled Crowley to him and cradled him in his arms a bit awkwardly. “Your fine dear, I’m here for you.”

“I-I know angel, I’m happy you’re here.” Crowley stuttered out, the same horrified look still on his face.

Aziraphale continued to hold Crowley in his arms till he calmed down enough to talk. Crowley’s hands eventually unclasped from his arms and fell loosely to his sides as he laid there with his back pressed into Aziraphale; Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around Crowley’s chest. Crowley brought his arm up and laid his hand on Aziraphale’s arm, his head leaning back so to the back of his head rested on his shoulder.

“Are you feeling any better dear, I apologize if I’m not much of any help.” Aziraphale asked in a soft tone.

Crowley nodded slightly.

“I’m feeling a bit better, and you are helping angel.” Crowley said with a reassuring tone to Aziraphale. “You just being here is enough for me.”

Aziraphale sighed at hearing that, it was a happy sigh that he was doing something helpful. Aziraphale often felt a tad bit useless in these situations since he really did not know how to approach it; every nightmare was different, and he responded differently after he woke up. Sometimes all he needed was reassuring words or a simple hug to ground him that did not need comforting talks to calm him down. This was one of those nightmares were he just needed to be held in a warming embrace for a bit before he got comfortable to talk about it.

“Would you like to talk about what had happened, if you don’t want to you don’t have to dear?” Aziraphale asked. His voice was tender when asking the question, he did not want to start treading on thin ice about the nightmare until Crowley was comfortable.

Crowley shifted slightly to better face Aziraphale; the golden depths of his eyes were slightly haunted by whatever he had seen as he locked eyes with Aziraphale’s pale blue eyes that watched him with concern. Crowley nodded as shifted to sit across from Aziraphale on the sofa; Aziraphale let his hug on Crowley slide away so he sat beside him.

Crowley’s eyes averted Aziraphale for a moment so he could process the dream that he had; the vivid stretch of dream turned nightmare was one thing that was etched in his mind forever. His eyes were glued to the floor and he rested his hands on his knees to try to figure out how to begin the dream; he wished he had his sunglasses so he could hide the ghostly look in his eyes.

Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s hand that had been digging into his knee.

“Take your time dear, whatever you saw in that dream was probably terrible for you; so, I understand you if you have to take a while before you can talk about it. You don’t have to go into detail or anything dear if you don’t want to.” Aziraphale reassured him as he stroked his thumb across the top of Crowley’s hand. “Would you like a cup of tea or anything?”

Crowley’s eyes still stared down at the floor.

“Tea sounds nice,” he muttered slightly, he was caught up in thought of how to explain everything.

Aziraphale arose from the sofa and planted a kiss on Crowley’s head.

“I’ll be back in a minute dear.” Crowley said in a hushed tone.

He headed off into the kitchen leaving Crowley, who continued to stare at the floor underneath him. The visions in his head seizing to stop playing as he sat there still as a statue. Tears began to form in his eyes again as the scenes played over again and ended with that blood curdling scream that tore Crowley awake and left him in shambles.

* * *

Crowley sat there swirling the spoon in his tea that Aziraphale had given him a few minutes prior. He had not realized how tired he was until he had calmed down, the adrenaline and fear finally wearing down enough for him to concentrate. Aziraphale took a sip of his tea and set it on the coffee table in front of him, his attention entirely on Crowley, who now had his sunglasses on his face, so it hid the tiredness in his eyes a bit.

“In the dream there was this person,” Crowley began with a long somber sigh. “They weren’t happy or anything but, this other individual came into their life and they were happy.”

Crowley took a sip of his tea and set it down on the table in front of him as well.

“Was it you and I dear?” Aziraphale asked feeling a twinge in his heart that after all these years he still had nightmares about them loosing each other or worse.

Crowley shook his head.

“No, it was two people I had never seen before it my life, one was a woman and the other I could not tell if they were a man or woman, they were kind of always obscured a bit, their face was all blurry. The only thing I knew was that they both loved on another; they danced, had picnics and all that jazz.” Crowley explained. “They really loved one another but, something happened to the woman and the blurry individual was in distress for some time but, I didn’t know why. They started crying out for them to come back but, they did not. I think the woman died and that broke them, and they started to scream out in pain for no reason, the screaming from them was why I woke up.”

“Oh, dear that sounds terrible.”

“Oh, it was angel.” Crowley sighed as he reached in his pocket for his phone and looked at the bright screen for a moment before turning it off again: the time read 4:35 AM.

Crowley internally groaned that he was up at such an early hour, he usually slept a bit latter and napped throughout the day, but for some reason unknown he felt extra tired, drained even. He assumed it was due to his nightmare and the burst of adrenaline that kicked him awake and made his heart ache dully from being pulled from sleep like that.

He frowned and arose from the sofa and snapped his fingers and his jacket and normal attire was on him in an instant. He picked up his teacup and drank the remaining tea in his cup and miracled it into the sink in the kitchen; even miracleing things seemed to make him feel a little woozy.

“Hey angel, I’m gonna head home for a bit and see if I can catch a bit more shut eye; I’ll call you when I get home and if I have any nightmares or anything again, I’ll call you, okay.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at that. It was strange for Crowley to act like this after a nightmare, perhaps it was worse than he thought but, it was strange that he wanted to go home right away.

“Okay dear, please be safe on your way home.” Aziraphale said, he was a bit taken back by how quickly Crowley wanted to up and leave. “You will come back in a bit, won’t you?”

Crowley turned to face Aziraphale and nodded.

“I’ll be back soon angel, maybe we can stop for a spot of lunch somewhere.” Crowley reassured as he planted a kiss atop Aziraphale’s forehead which, soothed Aziraphale’s mind a bit. “I heard there is a new restaurant that just opened up that we can go check out for lunch.”

Aziraphale smiled at that, he had heard something about a new restaurant opening in the area; if he recalled correctly, it was a Middle Eastern restaurant which, he was beyond excited to try. Aziraphale could not remember the last time he had cuisine from the Middle East; he guessed it had been since the 1950s or maybe earlier. He recalled he was sent there on an assignment to thwart Crowley since he was there starting a ruckus; however, Crowley and Aziraphale both shrugged off the work and went to various restaurants and enjoyed the sights of various cities and towns in the different countries they ventured to in that region.

Aziraphale let out a small wiggle of excitement at the idea for lunch at the new restaurant.

“Oh, that sounds absolutely wonderful dearest, I absolutely can’t wait until noon.” Aziraphale said as he planted a kiss on Crowley’s cheek.

Crowley headed out after that, the door of Aziraphale’s flat clicked shut behind him; leaving Aziraphale to sit there with his tea growing cold in front of him. He could hear the back door open and the Bentley outside drive away from the bookshop.

Aziraphale sat there and took a sip of his tea, thinking about the strange behavior Crowley exhibited. He sighed and tried to let his mind wander to something else. He hoped that Crowley was fine and just needed some sleep; he probably needed to care for his various plants that he still had in his plant room? Aziraphale knew that Crowley had a few large plants in his house that he couldn’t really fit in Aziraphale’s small flat no matter how many times he had miracled his flat bigger or added another room. He did have many of his plants already at Aziraphale’s place that rested in the dining room on a somewhat modern shelf Crowley miracled into existence.

Aziraphale shrugged it off and arose from the sofa, heading into the kitchen to start breakfast for himself; it had been a while since he had cooked breakfast since Crowley had cooked or they had gone out for breakfast at the nearest diner. The strangest thing was eating alone again since him and Crowley had been insufferable for the last few weeks.

He eventually finished a small breakfast for himself and sat down at the kitchen table in the dining room; the curtains were drawn open even though the sun would not rise for a few more hours. His mind knit with worry as he had his cellphone resting on the table in front of him, eating in quiet without his usual enthusiasm waiting for Crowley’s call.

* * *

Crowley was sitting in his Bentley out in the front of his building. The rain had continued through the night into the morning; rain fell hard on the Bentley’s windshield and roof as he sat there with the radio playing one of the various Queen albums he had. He was sitting there with his eyes glued to the roof the Bentley, he had hoped that he had not come off rude with him randomly leaving after he woke up from an awful nightmare; it wasn’t anything to do with him being uncomfortable around Aziraphale, rather it was the feeling of something else lingering in the background that made him uncomfortable.

Crowley could not really put a finger on what it was, rather it was a strange sensation that made him feel like he wasn’t supposed to be there or wasn’t even welcome. He knew for a fact that he was welcome at Aziraphale’s place and vis-versa but, the feeling that hung in the air seemed to say differently.

It was an old feeling, a feeling that Crowley had not felt in an exceptionally long time; it was a subtle feeling but, it was there none the less. It was a feeling of unwantedness and isolation; it probably did not help either that his mind was racing from the awful dream he had experienced. The dream itself was alarming and unsettling enough to startle him awake in a shaky mess, the feeling of adrenaline creeping through every part of his body; he could sense everything and was on full alert for anything, which was when he found that strange feeling.

It had taken him a few moments to register it because it was so out of place. It was so distant too, almost like it was hanging in the distance and seemed to echo through the confines of Aziraphale’s flat and building but, Crowley could not pin down the exact origin of where it was coming from.

The best way he could describe the feeling, was it was like a record player playing in the distance, so it echoed without a real place or origin. The thing was, record player could not be found no matter how much you searched for; the only thing you know is that it is playing distorted music, making things even more unsettling.

Crowley let out a groan of frustration, trying to figure out what that feeling was; it was nagging at him. He got out of the Bentley and strode up the steps and threw open the door to the building, heading to the elevator and eventually making his way to his flat. He snapped his fingers so the shades would open in his living space and plant room so they can get some sunlight while he slept; his mind went fuzzy a bit, causing him to stagger a bit and grab the corner of his living room wall next to him.

He blinked a few times trying to regain himself, that was the second or so time he had felt weird since he had woken up; whatever it was, he hoped it was just him being tired. He took out his cellphone and searched through his contact numbers, which he had very few numbers in his contacts, and phoned Aziraphale.

Crowley rubbed his eyes for a moment and yawned, he hoped he had not made Aziraphale threat to much about him. Crowley knew how Aziraphale got when he started acting off; especially when he disappeared for some time to collect himself, yell at his plants, or sleep. He just hoped Aziraphale wasn’t pacing around waiting for him to call, Crowley hoped he would just let this morning’s events slip from his mind and they could pretend it didn’t happen; however, he knew Aziraphale and knew he wouldn’t let it go until he knew that Crowley wasn’t in any sort of destress.

He sighed slightly as he listened to the phone ring for a few moments. He had called his cell number instead of the shop phone; Crowley knew he would not open the shop this early and it was better to call him on his cell then have him barrel down the stairs to answer the phone.

“Hey angel just wanted to tell you I made it home,” Crowley said right as the ringing seized.

Aziraphale let out a small sigh of relief.

“That is good to hear dear, I’m happy you made it home okay,” Aziraphale said.

There was a pause for a moment, it was an awkward silence on both their ends.

“Are you alright dear, first you wake up from a nightmare then you leave all of the sudden not to long after that. If there is something bothering you, you can always talk to me Crowley?” Aziraphale asked in a concerned tone that made Crowley hold back what he wanted to say about when he woke up but, thought against it.

“I’m fine angel, just woke up and wanted to catch some shut eye back home for a bit. Take care of my plants and all that I can’t really fit in your flat.”

“Hm. Okay dear, if you don’t want to discuss it any further it is okay, I just worry about you is all; this is the first time in a while that you have had a nightmare and woke up like that.” Aziraphale sighed, he sounded a little at lost for words as to what to say.

Crowley knew he was concerned, kind of like he was about the whole situation. Aziraphale also had a point that it had been a long while since he had a nightmare like that; he just hoped that he had not done anything when he woke up since he had a habit of flailing in his sleep when he was suffering a nightmare. He recalled the last time he had a nightmare; it was at the point where he was screaming and crying in his sleep. Aziraphale had woken up him screaming in agony and tried to wake him, which made Crowley panic even more. He started kicking and throwing his hands aimlessly about and hit Aziraphale a few times until he woke up. Crowley felt awful for weeks after and just stayed cooped up in his flat till Aziraphale came by and they sorted things out; Aziraphale wanted to help was all but, in situations like that, Crowley said just to let him ride the night terror out no matter how much pain he seems in because, he would rather ride it out than hit his lover on accident again during one of his nightmare episodes.

“Crowley, are you still there?” Aziraphale asked in a bewildered tone that cause Crowley to snap out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I am still here angel, just wondering about that nightmare thing; your right about not having one in a while. I have a question, at all during my nightmare did I start thrashing about or no?” Crowley asked, hoping the answer was not a yes.

“Well, no dear, you weren’t thrashing in your sleep at all. The only reason I woke up when I did was because when you woke up you kind of elbowed me in the side.” Aziraphale explained.

Crowley let out a small noise that sounded like a hurt cry.

“Oh dear, there is no reason for you to start crying, it was an accident, and you didn’t mean to do it!” Aziraphale said, trying his best to reassure him that it was an accident before Crowley blew it out of proportion like he had the last time something like this had happened.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley murmured, he sniffled slightly with tears beginning to creep down his face. “I’m so sorry angel I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Crowley, I accept your apology if that helps, I’m not furious with you because you accidently elbowed me in the side when you woke up from a nightmare. It is a common response to jump up like that after having a nightmare.” Aziraphale emphasized through a soothing tone that everything was fine. “If anything, I didn’t care about my side at all, I was more concerned with you than that.”

Crowley sniffled for a moment.

“Thank you Aziraphale for not being cross with me. I’m still sorry thought,” Crowley sighed a bit. “I’m gonna let you go, I’m going to set my alarm clock for lunch, and I’ll swing by and pick you up okay.”

“Okay dear, see you for lunch.”

The phone call ended, and Crowley slumped down the wall; how could he have done that? He didn’t mean to hurt Aziraphale at all, the last time that this happened was terrible; Aziraphale didn’t know much of anything about Crowley’s nightmares back then as he did now. In a way, they both learned from their experiences but, it did not mean it did not way down on Crowley every time he awoke in cold sweat from a terrible dream like that; especially the ones he used to have after the apocalypse that did not happen. His occasional nightmares, as of the present, he experienced were not as bad as they used to be but, that did not mean that he was exactly free from them either.

He slipped off his sunglasses and stuck them in his jacket pocket, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he stared out the window in front of him. He was simply happy that Aziraphale wasn’t upset with him as much as he was upset with himself, Crowley hoped that lunch would make up for it as well as a bit of sleep to recharge before noon.

He pulled himself up from the floor and headed to his bedroom, snapping his fingers again so he appeared in his black pajamas; he fell onto the black satin comforter of his bed and set his alarm, hoping that a bit of sleep would do him good, which it did.

* * *

Aziraphale straightened his bowtie and let out a sharp exhale from his nose, his mouth formed into a thin line. It had been the second customer today that tried to purchase one of his first editions from him. He entered the back room and miracled the kettle on for tea, he did like making tea the old-fashioned way, but was content with miracleing the water on at the moment.

He sank into his armchair and let out a sigh, trying to think about this afternoon rather than the rude or oblivious customers he had been dealing with for the last few hours since he had opened. He stared off for a moment wondering if he could start a few books and finish them before Crowley arrived, but that thought instantly left his mind when his attention was averted to the parcel on the coffee table that Anathema had left the day before.

He arose from his armchair and picked up the parcel that was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around it. Aziraphale could see there were magic seals inscribed on the paper of the parcel. He could see Anathema had taken care when it came to wrapping this item, and even more care to carefully draw out seals to keep the energy trapped inside.

Just by how the seals had begun to change color, the energy inside was starting to destroy the seals. This was alarming to Aziraphale since, the one’s Anathema had used were rather powerful to begin with. Judging by how the state of the seals at this time, he could deduce they wouldn’t last that much longer; knowing this, Aziraphale felt it was better to find a few of his various books on witchcraft and seals in his collection to see if he could whip up a few more seals.

Aziraphale was indeed a bit worried about what was inside, but he was also curious about what was in the parcel to begin with. Anathema had never disclosed what was inside when she had left it with him for a few days. He guessed that since the seals were already failing anyhow, why not take a peek of what was inside; if he had to seal it up again, he knew where the books were that he could use.

He moved the parcel to his desk and set it down on the very corner of his desk; he began pulling the paper away to reveal a wooden box that had been sealed as well with wax and other inscriptions. The various tombs inscribed were already failing as well, the wood seemed slightly scorched around the edges, as the wax had begun to soften slightly but, not enough to turn it to liquid. Aziraphale felt a bit unnerved as his fingertips traced along the seals of the box; he felt it was a bad idea to open it, but his curiosity overtook him.

He broke the seals and felt a wave of unmistakable sadness flood out from the box. His heart ached slightly; his mouth crimpled from wonder to sadness that made his body ache and hurt. The realization that there was something wrong with whatever was inside hit him like a ton of bricks; Anathema was right about something being wrong but, he could not have imagined this.

He opened the box to see a mirror staring back at him, his reflection blurred in its freckled surface. Aziraphale picked up the mirror and held it firmly in his hand; feeling a pulsing, isolated feeling radiated from it. In all his years on Earth, he had only felt this feeling a few times but, not on this level. The intensity of the energy surrounding the mirror seemed to seep into the room around him, encasing him in a thick depressive state that he could not quite shake. 

Aziraphale had wondered how Anathema and Newt had not felt the melancholy aura radiating off the thing in the first place; how had it snuck up on them when Anathema could sense spiritual presences? Perhaps it was not as strong as it is now, perhaps staying in their home and absorbing their energy made its influence grow stronger? However, unlike Anathema saying it was cursed or there was a spirit attached to it, Aziraphale picked up something different. It was subtle under the saddening abyss that appeared prominently before him; it was a strange, cold warmth like that of Heaven's office lights that he wished he could forget. 

He tried to focus passed the howling isolation that carved into his soul as well as the pained grief that followed. It was almost like a cold breeze had blown right through his corporation and spirit like it was hollowed out; the bitter cold whistled and cried with each wave that pulsed slowly from the mirror.

He let out a small hum of wonder that sounded somewhat troubled; the sound seemed to loud in the quiet bookshop as he stood there feeling the cold creep further in around him. He set the mirror back into the wooden box, just so he did not drop it on accident, and focused his energy to see if he could look at the mirror’s energy on a deeper level.

Aziraphale’s eyes glossed over as he tried to search the spiritual plane. If he could at least find something on the spiritual plane then, perhaps he could find a solution to this strange aura that resided before him. He focused on the energy, trying to see if he could pick up anything unusual about it.

A strange sound of distorted music encompassed him, it felt so distant yet so close that he could not put his finger on it; it echoed through the black space that he drifted in, trying to find the aura. The music was somewhat nostalgic in a sense to Aziraphale, a lot of it was music that he had not heard in years. In the distance, he could see something flickering, it was a small blueish green light that hovered coldly in the distance. It did not seem to have a form that Aziraphale could recognize at first but, the closer he got to it the more it started to appear unhuman yet human at the same time.

There was a human-like form that seemed attached to it, but it did not seem to hang there lifelessly; the body suspended there looked like a marionet puppet in many ways. Aziraphale’s own essence and body appeared much of the same as this individual’s senses did when he was on this spiritual plane; he could feel his corporation even when he was like this, but it was somewhat like a ghost sensation to him as he hovered about in his celestial form. The only thing that was different between Aziraphale and this aura was the body of the spirit it was attached to was probably dead, but Aziraphale really did not know. The being was rather thin with their hair hanging in their face; they did not seem to respond to Aziraphale at all, which only concluded that they may in fact be diseased. The only thing that did seem to change was their aura.

The aura above continued to flicker and change shape and overall intensity of its feelings. The swirling ball before him seemed to counteract against different forms it took; it seemed to hide away what it was, changing from a subtle human soul to something unhuman rapidly. The form of the aura did not have a real shape to it, but he could make out a few miniscule details as it changed. One was that is seemed to have a holy energy surrounding it, no matter how much it changed to mask it, there was still a small amount of it present. Another thing was there were visible symbols that seemed to change but, none of them he could get a good look at since they changed so quickly.

The emotions seeping from it caused Aziraphale to falter somewhat; the feeling was strong and seemed to overtake him no matter how much he protested it. It was almost like they were pushing him away in a sense. He grew closer to it, hearing the music emulating from it the more he got closer; the music was still echoing around it, but it was a bit clearer than it was before when he stood a distance away.

“ _Hello?”_ Aziraphale asked and waited for the changing aura to reply.

The aura kept changing like it had not heard him.

“ _Hello, can you hear me?”_ He asked again.

The aura seemed to reply, but it was by its rapid changes slowing to only one, settling on just one before it hovered there silent. It did not flicker or anything, just remained incredibly still.

“ _Can you understand me?”_ He asked again. _“Who are you and why are you spirit embedded to the confines of this mirror?”_

Silence followed as they both hovered there; the music had seized to play anymore, having been replaced by a strange static sound that bounced through the empty space they were in.

“ _Can you speak?”_ Aziraphale asked, feeling a bit mortified if they could not communicate properly. “ _I’m sorry if I’ve been bashing you with questions and you can’t speak.”_

The aura seemed to flicker slightly, changing to a deeper blue color in response to that. The static seemed to change slightly until it was merely a background thought. Aziraphale felt that that reaction was a yes to the communication bit, but he was still unsure about that. Since their aura could change color on a whim, he wondered if he could have a yes or no question session with them with different colors signifying their response.

 _“Is there a way you can distinguish what yes and no is? I just want to understand is all dear and it is hard to really distinguish what is what?”_ Aziraphale asked, he hoped he had not come off rude at all.

The aura changed back it its normal hue it was before.

“ _What would yes be?_ He asked. “ _And then what would a no be?”_

The aura remained still for a moment before changing color, the first color was strangely a magenta color which, signified a yes; the second color was a deep green color for no. The spirits color eventually reverted to its normal color and seemed to wait for him to ask them questions.

Aziraphale waited for a moment before he answered, he could only ask yes or no questions, which did not help him either since he had more in-depth questions he wanted to ask. He did not really know what questions to ask in the first place.

_“Well, the first question I have is are you trapped in here?”_

The color turned to magenta. Aziraphale felt a bit nervous at that, he did not know exactly what he was dealing with in this plane of existence and was worried as to what it may do.

“ _Okay that’s a start,”_ he mumbled. “ _Another question I have is are you human? Reason I ask is your aura is a little off?”_

The color seemed to mix somewhere in the middle, it was an ugly color, but it was somewhere in the middle answer for his question the middle answer for his question made Aziraphale uneasy. He did not really know how to take that question; if this thing was somewhere in the middle of being human and non-human it meant that he was probably talking to some sort of demigod-like-being or something in between. The thought of that made him anxious, just thinking that this thing might be another antichrist like Adam that was trapped in this mirror.

_“With your last response, I have to ask you this. Are you another antichrist?”_

The color turned a deep green in response. Which made Aziraphale a bit relief, but that did not ease his concern about what this thing could be.

“ _Are you an angel or a demon?”_ He asked with bated breath, hoping it was one of those and, of it was, he could figure out the rest.

The aura flickered for a moment before turning to a mixed color again; not signifying what it was exactly. Aziraphale took note of that and decided it would not be wise to push the subject further.

_“Are you a malevolent spirit?”_

The color turned green in response rather quickly, which eased Aziraphale a little bit more at the thought this thing may not be as bad as he had thought.

 _“Is the reason your essence is so strong is because you’re in distress or saddened by something; your aura kind of takes over everything its around and I just wanted to ask if you are okay?”_ He asked, hoping to find answers with that.

There was no reply from the aura, just the sense that he had asked something he should not have asked. Aziraphale knew they were in distress and were probably deeply troubled by something that happened before or after they were sealed away.

“ _That’s not a bad thing, that your aura is strong and all; I just want to understand why is all dear!”_ Aziraphale explained in a panicked voice as he tried to back peddle what he had just said to the being in front of him.

Aziraphale was so caught up in thought that he had not noticed the humanoid being suspended below had begun to twitch slightly. Its hand reached out and seemed to grasp Aziraphale’s celestial being their hand catching him off guard as a cold sensation racked his being on the physical and spiritual plane. It numbed him slightly as his many eyes caught visions of a life that was not his own.

The flashes he was were filled with overwhelming love and joy. This person’s life was filled with the love of an individual he could not make out in the brightened lights of the memories; they were a couple that loved one another and cherished one another. The memories could not help but bright tears to Aziraphale’s at how delightful they were; however, they soon came to an end.

A sharp scream snapped him out of the pleasant times he had seen; feeling as thought someone was strangling him as the desperate cries echoed around him and haunted him. The horror of what he was feeling and hearing set in; the warm, sickening gargles of scarlet filled his view was everything then turned to bright for him to handle. It felt like he was drowning, the sensation of water entering his throat and suffocating him; panic filled him as he struggled to get a grip on what was happening. He could not speak; he could not scream out as waves of hot pain sank into his being like a scolding iron. With a forced shift, he forced himself back to his corporation with a loud snap and the last scream echoing in the void before it went silent.

* * *

Aziraphale brought him back to the physical plane, stumbling backwards as he inhaled a sharp, shaken breath; he tried to register what he had seen and felt. It all became to much as tears prickled in his eyes, threatening to escape at any minute. The overwhelming wave that had encompassed him seemed to wane slightly, but it was not enough to make him comfortable.

His hand was pressed to his throat as he stood there with his hand pressed to the top of his chair to keep him steady. His eyes darted around as he breathed in uneven breaths to calm himself down; the pain he had felt had seized once he had left him once he snapped back into his corporation. The uneasy feeling still remained in both planes as he stood there; his other hand was pressed to the center of his chest as he tried to rest his beating, aching heart.

The echoing scream still bounced about his skull; a haunted expression painted on his face, showing the dark circles under his eyes and lines on his face. His eyes appearing a deeper shade of blue that appeared almost grey as he stared off in his distressed state of mind. He was disturbed, deeply horrified by what he had felt and witnessed before his very eyes; the sight burning itself into his memory.

His eyes darted to the mirror in the box and quickly snapped the box shut and miracled the wax seal back on; he added a few more miracles to insure whatever was inside couldn’t break out. His hands shook as he picked up the box from the edge of his desk and rested it on the glass-doored shelf next to his desk; placing it in a spot that he could remember as well as reach when Anathema came to pick it up. He closed the doors of the shelf and fidgeted with his waist coat for a moment, giving it a tug to busy his hands as he tired to put his mind at ease.

He snapped his fingers and put the kettle on in his small kitchenet space that was at the back of the bookshop; he headed into the kitchenet and pulled down his favorite mug with a winged handle and poured the already hot water into his mug and let his tea seep for a bit.

His attention turned to the window to his side, the rain had stopped around six in the morning and the sky had changed from a slate grey to a welcoming hue of blue with puffy white clouds that drifted above lazily. Birds sang above the roof tops, but their sweet songs were overpowered by the sounds of automotive in the streets. He watched the sky through the small window for some time before returning to his cup of tea and adding sugar to it and absent mindedly taking a sip. He headed to the back room and found himself seated in his chair reaching for one of the various books besides him on the end table. Like clockwork, he had fell into the same old system that he had always followed; however, even while reading his book, he was pulled from it as he thought back to what had happened with the mirror.

He wondered faintly if he was the only one who felt it, or perhaps that was the same thing that Crowley had felt and seen in his nightmare? He did not know how exactly to ask Crowley about the situation, hoping he would not send him into an anxious mess in the process of him asking.

Aziraphale’s train of thought was interrupted when the sound of the bell above the door jangled through the empty shop.

“Hey angel, its just me!” Crowley called through the shop.

“I’m in the back dear!” Aziraphale called as he heard Crowley’s shoes click across the floor.

Aziraphale set his book aside and looked to the door to see Crowley standing there with a small box of chocolates in hand and an apologetic look on his face. Aziraphale got up from his seat and crossed to the space between them.

“I know you said you weren’t mad with me, but I still wanted to apologize a bit better is all.” Crowley said handing the box of chocolates to Aziraphale.

“Oh, dear you didn’t have to get me anything, I already told you that you were alright,” Aziraphale explained taking the box of chocolates from Crowley and wrapping his arms around him and tugging him into a hug. “You are more than fine dear, and I knew that it was an accident.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, reciprocating a hug back to his lover.

“I know dove, but still I-

“Crowley let it go dear, you are fine. Do not threat over it otherwise you’ll make your self sick.” Aziraphale said placing his hand on Crowley’s cheek, which Crowley leaned into the touch.

“Okay angel, I’ll stop.” He said with a small smile appearing on his face as Aziraphale smiled back at him. Crowley planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek which, Aziraphale kissed him back.

Both let their hug slide a bit as they both went to holding on another’s hands.

“Are you ready for lunch?” He asked Aziraphale which got a bright smile out of Aziraphale.

“Yes dear, but first I have something to ask you?” Aziraphale asked with a concerned edge to his voice.

“Of course, angel what is it?” Crowley asked with a confused tone, his eyebrow raised a bit as to what Aziraphale had to ask.

“I know I ask you to drop it dear but, I remember what you had said this morning about your dream, and I recall you said they screamed, if I’m recalling correctly?”

Crowley nodded slowly.

“Yes, there was a scream, what about it?” he asked feeling a bit worried as to where Aziraphale’s question was going.

“Well, I think I experienced something similar to what you had.” Aziraphale muttered, his eyes growing a bit wide as he admitted that.

“Aziraphale, how exactly did you experience the same thing I had?” Crowley asked with his eyebrow raised with bewilderment. “You don’t sleep often so there is really no way you could have had the same dream as me, that just seems a little too farfetched?”

Aziraphale puffed slightly at that.

“Why would I lie to you about this?” Aziraphale asked feeling a bit offended at the thought that Crowley thought he was lying.

Crowley groaned slightly, that is not what he meant when he had said that.

“Aziraphale, I didn’t mean that I thought you were lying to me, it just seems weird that you and I had a similar dream or experience is all?” Crowley explained.

“It wasn’t a dream Crowley, I saw it when I went on the spiritual plane, I don’t think it was a dream you experienced?” Aziraphale clarified with a horrified expression crossing his face that worried Crowley.

Crowley’s mind went a bit numb after he heard that, it took him a few minutes to comprehend what he had just heard. Why was Aziraphale on the spiritual plane, he had not been on that plane since they averted Armageddon; there was really no reason to be on that plane unless he was searching for something on purpose, but what was the question? What had he seen on that plane to horrify him like that?

“Why were you on the spiritual plane, and don’t take me on a trip angel, I love you but I just want to get to the point so I can understand what’s going on is all?”

“I went on the spiritual plane due to the item Anathema gave me to watch after.”

“What was inside?”

“It was a mirror, a silver, handheld mirror.”


	3. Shattering Surface

Aziraphale and Crowley were sitting opposite of one another; Crowley was seated on the sofa with Aziraphale sitting in his armchair with a cup of tea in his hands. Aziraphale tugged at his collar a bit out of nervousness, he fidgeted a bit as he sipped on his tea; his nervous, unsettled eyes glancing between the box on the coffee table and to Crowley’s uneasy stare at the item in front of him.

“You want me to open it angel or, do you just want to leave it inside and discuss the incident further?” Crowley asked with a soft concerned tone in his voice.

Crowley knew Aziraphale was in distress after what he had experienced before he had arrived; he could only imagine what he had seen, especially if what Aziraphale said was true about having a similar occurrence that Crowley had. The sheer memory of the dream Crowley had sent chills through him; that blood curdling scream turning his blood cold and drained his face of color.

He looked up to meet Aziraphale’s unsettled eyes, he took a long sip of his tea before coming up with a response; he was still pondering on even opening the box again and breaking the seals away. He was troubled by the feelings that would flood out like water from a broken dam; spilling out and consuming everything it touched around it; he didn’t want to feel that feeling again, especially after the adrenaline wore off after he squeezed his essence hastily into his corporation.

His heart ached still at that and his body felt stiff and cold compared to how it normally had before; whatever that thing had done to him in the mirror, he felt a bit drained, more so than he normally felt. He kept fidgeting with the mug in his hands and or the hem of his waistcoat. He felt off, no matter how much time he had spent sitting there with Crowley trying to calm down enough to even begin taking about the mirror; he felt out of place, off balance in a sense. It felt as though his aura sloshed around in his body like water, it was an off-putting feeling that made him uneasy.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea dear,” Aziraphale murmured as a small chill rolled through his body. “Whatever is attached to the mirror inside has a very potent.”

Crowley nodded, his lips feeling a bit dry as he let that fact sink in for a moment; if this thing was as powerful as Aziraphale had said it was, it was no wonder that it bothered Anathema and Newt. The only thing that seemed off was how he had felt the energy seep off the item when it was perfectly sealed in front of him; he had not noticed anything off at first until he took a closer look at the state of the box. He noticed scorches along the sides of it were the seals that were carved in and were the wax had begun to wear away slightly; the wax along the top of the box had begun to discolor from the sheer energy inside eating away at the binds encasing it.

“Angel, before you opened it up was there anything wrong with it?” Crowley asked, his hand tracing along the slightly soft wax that sealed the box shut. “I mean anything unnatural or particular?”

Aziraphale glanced out the window for a moment, his eyes averting Crowley as he talked; he knew Crowley’s eyes were looking at him with deep concern.

“Angel can you please look at me, I know you’re in a bit unsettled with this whole thing; I would be lying if I didn’t say I am a but unsettled as well.” Crowley sighed with a somber ache in his heart, he was upset, and he hated seeing him like this.

Aziraphale finally turned to face Crowley, seeing the demons face was contorted with worry; the lines in his forehead appearing prominently as he stared at his angel. He had removed his sunglasses to reveal his serpent eyes echoing the same feeling Aziraphale was feeling a that very moment.

“As I asked before, was there anything off with this before you opened it?” Crowley asked as he leaned back into the soft cushions of the sofa. His eyes averting the box entirely and was more focused on Aziraphale’s face as it changed expressions, his mouth opened slightly but fell closed a few times before he finally spoke.

“Yes, it was a bit off dear, the seals on it seemed to have been fading a bit before I got it; I assumed that they must have been destroyed by the energy inside or they had failed at some point when Anathema had sealed it shut.” Aziraphale explained, sounding a bit lost for words; his voice was a bit husky, almost like he was straining himself to speak. “I resealed the box when I had ended my session in the spiritual plane rather quickly.”

It made sense to Crowley instantly why he was acting a bit more fidgety than normal; he must have been a bit off since he forced himself back into his corporation without taking time to adjust to the change from being spiritual to physical. He probably felt like liquifying Jell-O, the discomfort of his physical being and aura showing in his anxious twitching and unsettled mood even after an hour or so had passed by now. Crowley assumed he would be better eventually, but how long was something he really did not know. All he knew now was that his lover was uncomfortable, and he wanted to make him feel less unnerved than he was as of the present.

“Do you want to hold off on this and wait another day to open it?” Crowley asked. “I know your probably uncomfortable so I you want to hold off it is fine by me. I’m more concerned about helping you out angel.”

Aziraphale nodded.

“I do think that would be best for now dear, if you want you can put it back up on the shelf and we can better look at it at a later date before Anathema and Newt come to retrieve it.” Aziraphale said with a small sigh of relief.

Crowley picked up the box as he arose from the sofa; he miracled more seals and binds to the box as he put it back up in the shelf that Aziraphale had put the box on originally. He closed the glass door to the shelf and turned to see Aziraphale standing there awkwardly, still fiddling with his waistcoat a bit as he watched the glass door close with a small prickle or relief filling his eyes.

“Not that we got that kinda figured out, do you want to go out for a spot of lunch; perhaps take a walk in St. James park after?” Crowley asked, hoping he was doing something to help Aziraphale and his discomfort with both the mirror and his corporation.

A small smile crept onto Aziraphale’s face, his eyes lightened a bit which, made Crowley smile a bit to see him getting a little bit back to normal.

“That sounds absolutely lovely dear.” He said with a joyful tone in his voice.

Crowley and Aziraphale headed out of the bookshop, Aziraphale miracled the shop closed and sign to be flipped so no one would come by and jimmy the handle off his shop door when he was not in. Crowley held open the door for his angel, who thanked him as he slipped into the passenger seat of the Bentley and closed the door behind him. Crowley rounded the car and slipped into the driver’s seat after a swift motion of his door opening and closing with a small click.

The Bentley roared to life with a snap of Crowley’s fingers; he took one glance over to Aziraphale to see him sitting rather ramrod in the passenger seat of the car. As they drove away from the bookshop, Crowley made sure he drove slower so he did not cause his angel any more distress than he already was in; the only thing that came to Crowley’s mind was what a day it had been, and he hoped a spot of lunch and a nice walk would do just nicely to better the ill mood.

* * *

Two days had passed and Aziraphale felt more like himself again, he was still a bit of a nervous, fidgeting wreck when Crowley brought up the mirror or he was anywhere around it. Crowley moved it into a small drawer in the nearby end table next to the couch; setting the box gently inside and closing it so it was out of sight out of mind for the time being, but that was not the case.

A few more days passed, and things became apparent that things were becoming more and more out of hand.

Crowley had not been able to have a decent amount of sleep when he ended up sleeping at Aziraphale’s place. The same vision plagued him each time he fell into a comfortable slumber, causing him to jerk awake; Aziraphale had caught him starting awake a few times when he passed through the backroom after sorting and moving around various books and tombs to cause confusion in his customers. The few times he had caught him jumping up, he was at his side asking him if he was okay which, Crowley always answered that he was fine; cold sweat ran down Crowley’s forehead as he mumbled his answer feeling a bit discombobulated to even form coherent sentences. Crowley was just revealed that his sunglasses hid his tired eyes and dark circles that had begun to stand out under his eyes.

Crowley hated distancing himself from Aziraphale, having to leave early since his sleep was constantly interrupted every twenty or so minutes if he dozed off. He often not only from lack of sleep, he started feeling sick to his stomach and lightheaded just by being in the bookshop for too long after a while; his throat had also begun to hurt as well, it felt like it was rubbed raw, and no amount of honey in tea or awful flavored cough drops or syrup helped either. The dreams that hung with him at the bookshop did not follow him back to his flat, leaving him at peace for a bit.

Aziraphale had been experiencing similar things to Crowley as well, his throat felt raw and scratchy but there was no cough; he often felt lightheaded but, not as bad as Crowley’s mind splitting migraines that he often left with before lunch. The one thing he had noticed as well was that he felt a bit more drained than usual; he assumed it was due to the weather and various other stressful factors and, went out for a quick stroll around the block to ease his mind. The stroll worked but, upon returning he felt ill spirited again.

They both felt isolated, neither one of them wanted to be at the shop, even though it was the most comfortable place for them both. Crowley was worried about Aziraphale being at his bookshop and flat since the energy had grown out of control as time went on; even if he only had the item for three days, it had damaging effects on everything its aura seeped into. Aziraphale was stubborn and wanted to ride it out and see if he could make it until Anathema came to get the box; he kept miracleing seals that kept failing after an hour, draining him each time until he was entirely worn out to the point he was on the verge of collapsing.

Crowley had come over reluctantly, he did not want to be there, but he knew his love needed him; he felt bad for his behavior for the last few days, but he truly was not well. Crowley stood before the building and was hit instantly with a wave of sadness and overwhelming tiredness; this alarmed Crowley because he was on the sidewalk and could sense the energy seeping from the building.

The shop was locked up, which was unlike Aziraphale to not open at this time; usually he had the shop open and has miracled his customers out of the store, but the shop was entirely locked up. Crowley miracled the front door of the shop open and stepped inside; he miracled the bell silent so it would not ring above the door. The atmosphere was heavy and sank into Crowley’s being, he felt uneasy as he stood there taking in the aura that smothered everything around it; he could sense Aziraphale’s aura faintly under the heavy, burdening feeling about him.

“Angel, you here?” Crowley called out through the bookshop.

It was too quiet in the shop, he did not here the turning of book pages of the merry humming of Aziraphale; rather the shop was unbearably silent.

“C-Crowley is that you?” came a weak response, his voice was wispy like he was losing his voice.

Crowley’s eyes widened with concern when Aziraphale peaked out from the backroom; Aziraphale’s face was drained of color with his body leaning against the doorframe of the backroom. He was breathing a bit off, he seemed to rock and shutter slightly with each breath he took; his eyes had dark circles around them that made his blue eyes appear a sickly grey. His face was a bit flushed with a sickening haze on his face. He looked on the verge of falling over if he took a step forward.

“Oh, Aziraphale… you look awful?” Crowley asked feeling an aching sensation in his chest, he felt uneasy as he quickly crossed the space between them and rested his hands on his shoulders.

Aziraphale looked up at him with a pained and exhausted look on his face.

“I’m fine darling just a bit w-worse for the wares at the moment,” Aziraphale rasped, his voice fading a bit more as he spoke. His face contorted slightly in discomfort and pain.

Crowley’s face showed every feeling he felt at that moment. Concern, and a bit of frustration but, it was not because of Aziraphale; if he had been there and had bothered Aziraphale to stay with him a bit more, he would not be in the state he was in right now.

“You’re not fine angel, you look on the verge of discorporateing,” Crowley sighed he removed his sunglasses so Aziraphale could see the worry that flooded his eyes. “You need to get out of here okay, you can stay with me until you get better and we can figure this all out. Is that okay with you?”

Aziraphale nodded weakly, his eyes blinking slowly.

“I’m gonna wrap my arm around you and help you out to the car, okay.” Crowley explained in a soft voice.

Crowley’s worry only grew when he wrapped his hand around Aziraphale’s waist to guide him out the door of the shop and to the car; Crowley’s hand sank into his side but, there was not as much there as there had been a few days ago, meaning he had lost a considerable amount of weight in only a few days. Even through the multiple layers of clothing his love wore, he could tell there was a difference that he had not noticed till now.

Crowley’s heart broke, how had he let this go on instead of getting to the main point with the damned mirror days earlier; now the damn thing was probably, slowly killing his love just by being around it. If he had picked up on the signs that Aziraphale was getting affected by it sooner, he could have pulled him out of the shop, and he could have stayed with him. It was his fault that he wasn’t there, and he knew Aziraphale would shrug it off like it wasn’t his fault, but Crowley blamed himself for that.

He could deal with the infernal mirror later, right now he needed to get Aziraphale out of there and back to health before something worse happened to him by being in the bookshop or even Aziraphale’s own flat.

Aziraphale leaned heavily into Crowley as he helped him out to the Bentley; Crowley got Aziraphale to the Bentley and had him lay across the back seat. Crowley knew how weak he was at the moment and thought that some sleep might do him some good while he drove.

* * *

Crowley slightly kicked his door of his flat open and dragged Aziraphale to the sofa in his living room; he laid him down on the sofa and closed the shutters and miracled a lamp on in the far corner for some light. He had also miracled Aziraphale into something comfortable, primarily his favorite pajamas and had his cloths miracled neatly onto the coffee table next to him. A blanket and pillow were another thing Crowley snapped into existence to make Aziraphale comfy on the hash angles of the sofa he laid on.

Aziraphale’s tired eyes glazed around the bleak, modern flat of Crowley’s living room, taking in the harsh angles of the building’s layout. He had been to Crowley’s flat on multiple occasions and had stayed there for some time during the winter holidays since Crowley bunkered down in the winter and turned his flat’s temperature to tropic temperatures. But since the non-Armageddon, he had spent a lot more time at his flat and had brought over books to read and various other things.

He laid there and closed his eyes, feeling a small pressure that had been building up in his skull finally release a bit. His stomach seemed to do flips as he laid there trying to focus on anything other than the discomfort he was in at the moment. He could hear Crowley rummaging around in his kitchen, which he returned with a cup of herbal tea, a bowl of saltine crackers, and a thing of cough medicine that was half full.

Aziraphale pushed himself up to meet Crowley; Crowley sat on the edge of the coffee table with his sunglasses still removed so his eyes were in full view.

“I made you herbal tea with honey angel, also I got cough syrup ‘cause I know you have a sore throat. Before you ask, I had a sore throat a few days ago and now that you have one, I think it has to do with the fucken mirror book girl dumped off on you.” Crowley said as he handed Aziraphale the mug of tea and the cough syrup.

Aziraphale frowned slightly, his brows furrowing slightly; he didn’t feel in the mood to correct Crowley’s profane choice of words.

“I’ll warn you, that syrup tastes like shit so, it’s better to just down it like a shot and get it over with instead of lingering on it.”

Aziraphale sighed and downed the syrup, a revolted look crossed his face as he set the small cup the syrup was in down on the table and took a long sip of tea.

“If you need anything, I’ll be here. Just relax and sleep, you need it to get better okay.” Crowley said softly as he rose from his seat at the edge of the table and moved to the chair on the other side of the living room.

“I know that dear,” He croaked slightly. “But I just want to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Angel please shut up, your gonna lose your voice if you keep talking okay.” Crowley pointed out; he did not want Aziraphale to be in any more discomfort than he probably was. “I know you want to talk but, getting your health back is more important right now. Also, I should be the one apologizing since I left you in that fermenting energy, it drained you and now your sick because I didn’t drag you out of it quick enough because I kept getting ill.”

Aziraphale just sat there dumbfounded for a moment. It wasn’t Crowley’s fault, honestly it was more of his own fault since he could pick up the growing energy and decided to wait it out instead of asking if he could stay with Crowley for a while. Aziraphale sighed and took a sip of tea, he was right about his voice being on the verge of failing him and about his health as well. He took another long sip of his tea and set it on the table besides him; the warmth of the tea helped his throat a bit as he leaned back and sank into the soft pillow behind him.

Aziraphale fell asleep eventually, sinking into the cushions of the sofa. Crowley busied himself with his phone for a while as Aziraphale slept, he knew how exhausted he must have been trying to tough out staying at the bookshop; he looked miserable when he saw him and hoped that him staying away from the shop for a few days was enough to bring him back to health. The only think he could do was hope.

Aziraphale awoke a while later, Crowley had fallen asleep in the armchair on the other side of the living room. He smiled faintly at his love for caring for him even if it was his own fault, he got himself into this mess in the first place. He sat up and ran his hand through his curls to try to fix them a bit; eventually he gave up trying to fix them and rested his hands on his lap and looked around at his surroundings; he felt a lot better than he had when he had been earlier.

The headache he had was gone as well as the feeling he was going to fall apart at any second. He felt a bit peckish, he had not been able to eat for a few days since he felt sick to his stomach; eating only made him feel worse so he had to cut that out his normal snacking. Aziraphale felt to ill for those few days to venture out anywhere; his normal strolls becoming less and less as his energy drained to an all time low.

He picked up the bowl of saltine’s and ate them cautiously, hoping that he could stomach them after being ill for the last few days. He eventually finished the bowl of twelve or so crackers and took a sip of the cold tea at his side; he did not want to miracle it warm and decided to just finish the rest of it without much complaint.

He leaned back again, he did not feel all that terrible, but he did not want to push his limits. His throat was still tender but, it was not as scratchy as it was before; but it still felt a bit raw. He sighed and miracled one of the various books he had left at Crowley’s flat to his hands; he turned the book over in his hands and opened the book and began reading his book in silence.

Crowley awoke a little while later to see Aziraphale buried in his book. The lamp besides the sofa had been turned on so Aziraphale had a light to read.

“Hey angel, how are you feeling?”

Aziraphale looked up from his book with a small smile on his face; he looked far better than he had when Crowley had practically carried him out of the bookshop hours ago, but he still looked a little bit worse for wears. The dark circles were not as pronounced as they had been before, but they were still noticeable; there was a bit of a hollowness to his face from the obvious fact that Aziraphale had not been eating for the last few days.

“Hello dear, I’m doing a bit better. How did you sleep?” Aziraphale said hoarsely, his voice cut out at the end a bit; his voice broke, sounding like a high whistle. Crowley’s thought it was a good sign that at least his voice was somewhat back; his voice wasn’t there all the way but, at least he didn’t lose it.

“I should be asking you that question, to be honest we both slept well. Since your up, do you want me to whip you up some soup?” Crowley asked as he rose from the chair and ran his hand through his hair to fix it.

“That would be lovely dear.”

* * *

Crowley and Aziraphale had both had enough with this entity; they both avoided the bookshop for a few days and felt that they were just avoiding the problem all together. They both felt better, Aziraphale finally started feeling better but, he wasn’t entirely back to normal; he was still sick but at least he was up and walking around a lot more than he had been. His throat was still sore but, he could talk a little bit more without his voice cutting out or breaking into high pitch cracks.

In all they both agreed that it was better to handle the problem they were in than let it fester any longer, and decided it was best to call Anathema.

“Do you think that’s a good idea dear boy, she was rather adamant that I would hold on to it and that’s what I intend to do?” Aziraphale asked weakly, his voice rasping slightly. He grimaced slightly as he took his hand to his throat and touched it tenderly; he took another sip of his herbal tea with honey and sighed.

“Angel, look we both did what we needed to do, we have held onto that mirror for how many days now and we haven’t the single idea how to keep a handle on this situation; for someone’s sake angel, that thing literally was going to kill you if you stayed there any longer.”

Aziraphale frowned and took another sip of his tea. He was sitting on the barstool in Crowley’s kitchen with his elbows leaning on the island counter in the middle of the kitchen; a fluffy bathrobe was wrapped around his figure with fuzzy slippers covering his feet.

“You may be right about that dear, but you saw how sick she was when she came to me to take on the task to look after it. I kind of knew what I was getting myself into dear, but I guess I underestimated it a bit.”

“A bit!” Crowley sputtered. “Oh, I think it’s more than a bit Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale frowned slightly.

“You are right my dear, but I assumed that it wasn’t anything to be too concerned about is all,” Aziraphale explained with a small sigh. “I just wanted to help, I kept miracleing the box sealed since the seals kept failing.”

Crowley felt a chill run through him, so he was not the only one that had noticed that the seals had failed.

“The seals failed for you to huh. I noticed they were fading and miracled a few more for precaution; I just thought book girl did not put them on right. I knew you opened it but, I assumed that the seals were secured properly since you snapped it closed and sealed again?”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley for a moment with his eyebrows knit together.

“It was failing when you saw it dear, why did you not say anything?”

“I didn’t think anything of it, you miracled the box closed, and I assumed that the seals that were on it originally were weak or something and didn’t think anything of it and added a few more binds to it to keep it sealed. I had no idea that you have had to snap new seals into existence?”

Aziraphale took another sip of his tea and watched as Crowley paced with his phone in his hand, debating on calling Anathema. She knew more about the mirror than both of them combined, and perhaps she could enlighten them a bit more on what was going on; both with the powers this mirror held and what her plan was exactly.

Crowley searched through his contacts and found Anathema’s number and called her; putting her on speaker phone so Aziraphale could have part in the conversation between the three of them. He set the phone down on the countertop and listened to the subtle rings of the phone before the line clicked.

“Hello, AJ, what do I owe you the pleasure?”

Crowley huffed slightly.

“Hello, book girl, got a bit of an issue I would like to discuss with you; an issue involving a mirror you dropped off at Aziraphale’s a few days ago?” Crowley replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

There was uneasy silence that filled the room.

“Oh that… well I asked Aziraphale to look after it until I got everything in order to perform an exorcism on it.” Anathema explained in a confused tone. “Why, has something gone wrong?”

“Ah, well you see, when you left that mirror with him it literally made him sick and almost fucken killed him!” Crowley snapped.

“Crowley, I wasn’t going to die, your being dramatic!” Aziraphale exclaimed and then instantly regretted it as his voice cracked. He leaned back and took his hand to his throat and took a sip of his tea; trying to soothe his throat.

“Oh my god, is he okay! I didn’t know that it could harm you both because your both nonhuman!”

Crowley’s face contorted with rage, he was just about to continue his angered rant but, Aziraphale cut him off.

“I’m fine dear, just got a little sick is all; I can see what you mean when you said you were tired just being around it but, you said nothing about the aura eating away at you thought?”

Anathema sighed.

“I thought the seals would hold so you didn’t have to deal with that I-

“Wait this was happening to you before you dropped it off on him?” Crowley interjected. “You mean that the fucken dreams, lack of sleep, and that sickening aura was all shit you experienced, but didn’t say anything about it!”

“Yes, and I thought that it would not bother him or you but, I guess I was wrong. Listen, I am almost done with cleansing my house with Sage to get rid of the aura. I hadn’t meant to leave him or you with that cursed item okay; Newt and I got sick and then we had to take a few days to get better before we could start out work. I’m sorry I left you with it okay, I didn’t mean to cause you any troubles and I told Aziraphale I would make it up to him and I guess you now!” Anathema snapped through the phone, surprising Crowley and Aziraphale.

She huffed through the phone. Crowley threw his hands up in frustrated and stomped out of the room, leaving Aziraphale with a now pissed off Anathema on the phone. He could hear the front door slam shut, leaving him alone.

“I’ll be in town in two days, I’m still waiting for certain things I ordered to come in; after that I will come and collect the item and it will be out of your hair.” Anathema sighed with a vexed tone to her voice.

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head at the scene that had played out before him.

“Dear girl, I’m sorry for Crowley’s behavior. He is just in a bit of an anxious tizzy at the moment is all, he’s just concerned since he found me in a sickened state. I do not blame you dear for you leaving the mirror with me, I knew the stakes when I took it in. Crowley is just worried about this is all since I didn’t really explain it to him so, I’m a bit at fault because I didn’t explain anything to him.”

Anathema sighed deeply.

“I’m just hoping he doesn’t do anything stupid, he stomped off and left me here with his phone?” Aziraphale sighed and sipped on his tea.

“Aziraphale, I know Crowley, not as well as you but, I know him. He will probably do something foolish but, I don’t think there is any way that he could do anything super asinine.”

“I hope so dear.”

* * *

Crowley was about to do something stupid; he knew it was stupid, but he could not wait two more days to get rid of this thing; he had to finish this now.

He sat out in the front of the bookshop in his car, he stared daggers at the bookshop; he could feel the strange aura from where he sat in his car on the other side of the street. He took in a deep breath, he could just head in and grab the mirror and dispose it properly; by throwing the damn thing off a cliff or burying the damn thing where no one would look. Then no one would have to deal with it then if it was just gone. Crowley could miracle it away but, he did not think that it would work since placing seals on the thing did not do any good; for someone’s sake the mirror would probably reappear in the same place it was when he snapped it out of existence. No, it was better to just take the mirror and dispose of it by his own hands without his powers.

He could drag the mirror back with him to his flat, gat Aziraphale and drive to Anathema’s and toss it on her front door step from the driver-side window of his car and leave; however he knew how Aziraphale would be about the whole situation, let alone the mirror being in the car with them.

He flung open the door to the Bentley, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he sauntered across the street and miracled the door of the bookshop open; he stepped inside the shop and felt the thick air settle around him. He could feel the building shift around him, almost like it was alive; the walls seemed to breath, the lights flickering slightly in the shop as Crowley made his way to the back of the bookshop and to the side table near the sofa.

He pulled the drawer open, seeing the box smoldering slightly, the wax had melted off and pooled to the bottom of the drawer, the wax bubbling slightly on the charred edges of the box. Smoke vented from the sides of the box, filling to room with the scent of burning polish and wood.

He picked the box up and threw the lid open, taking in view of the item causing Aziraphale and him so much trouble in the last few days; even Anathema and Newt were plagued with undesirable, negative feelings. He could see his reflection in the mirror before him, he wrapped his hand around the handle to the mirror and brought it up to eye level. The silver gleaming coldly in the dimmed lights of the shop,

“How in the fuck have you caused so much trouble when all you are is a mirror!” he growled.

The room seemed to shift slightly, it felt like there was a presence that made itself better known. It was an essence that felt vaguely angelic in origin, perhaps even human by the subtle undertones. His attention changing sharply from the mirror to the pronounced feeling that had come forward from the cloud of melancholy. It felt different than the sensation he had felt before.

“Alright,” he muttered with his eyes darting from place to place. “I’ll take that as being you then.”

He turned his attention back to the mirror to see someone staring back at him; it was not him though. Who stared back at him was a strange figure with their hair in their face, and their dark eyes peeking out through their bangs. The person staring back at him startled him so much he yelped back and dropped the mirror onto the floor; it was almost like slow motion as the mirror flipped two times and then landed on its back, shattering into many pieces.

“Fuck!”

The broken pieces of the mirror stared back at him; his reflection distorted in the various shards now littering the rug. He ran his hands through his hair and hissed in frustration, how in someone’s sake was he going to fix this? He paced for a few minutes in a panicked state of mind trying to figure out a way to fix this; this was not how his plan was meant to go and now he had gone and messed it up, probably freeing the damned spirit inside to be a now permanent residence of the bookshop.

As he paced, he hadn’t noticed the shards on the floor had begun to shake along the rug; the mirror trembled, an inscription in the mirror burning through the border. The inscription burning itself into the mirror grew bright, which caught Crowley’s attention as he looked down at the strange ruins glowing before him.

Crowley could not read the ruins, try as he might, he could not even speak a word of the holy text inscribed before him; he had once been able to possibly read it before he was outed by Heaven all those many centuries ago before Eden. He knew many different languages, many long since used by humanity; however, this angelic, or holy writings was beyond him.

The mirror’s light kept growing till Crowley had to cover his eyes, his sunglasses couldn’t even protect his eyes from this strange light; it felt almost heavenly, blistering his skin slightly at the intensity till the bright holy light disappeared with a snap. The tiring aura around him had vanished, leaving a familiar warm feeling in its wake.

He carefully removed his arms from his face and stood face to face with a young woman. The woman looked to be in her late teens, probably nineteen to twenty if he had to guess; she was the same exact woman that he had seen in the mirror, her dark hair still in her face, obscuring her eyes and a portion of the bridge of her nose. She was rather thin, her cheeks shadowed in the dim light of the bookshop as she stood there with her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. She was dressed in a deep blue flower pattern dress with lace collar, the dress was rough around the edges with deep stains around the collar that appeared a rust red. Tear had strained down her cheeks, leaving silvery streaks along her face; her lips twitched slightly, but Crowley could not tell is it was from sadness or joy.

The most concerning thing was a large smear of red that covered his throat; a smell of old and new blood-filled Crowley’s senses as he stood there, staring at the sickly wound around the middle of her throat. A deep wound that had parted skin on wither sides that rose into a small arch; crimson bubbled and pooled from her throat as she stood there. Her hand outstretched hesitantly towards Crowley, her body falling into him; he caught her and stared off horrified for a moment of what to do.

He surely could not take her to the hospital and explain everything, and she surely would not make it if he carried her out to the Bentley and drove back to his flat to get Aziraphale to help; then it hit him, how in the hell was he going to explain this to him? He didn’t even have his phone on him since he left it at his flat.

He pushed his panicked mind aside and decided the best thing to do now was clean the wound up and go from there; she was probably in shock and had blood loss.

He laid her down on the sofa after miracleing a cover for the sofa and got a bowl of warm water and a cloth to whip away the blood, dabbing around the inflicted area; he miracled the wound to clot so he could begin cleaning it as carefully as he could. He started carefully and meticulously dabbing the dried blood away; he realized the wound was worse after getting a better view of it.

The wound on her throat stretched the length of her throat and stopped at her jawbone; the wound was deep in some places, but it was still a nasty gash. The flesh around the wound was irritated, with reddish-purple broken flesh standing flush against her pale skin. He assumed that whoever had done this to her had punctured her windpipe, causing blood to bubble up when she would breathe; however, with the wound partly closed due to miracles, the wound did not gush scarlet in sprays all over the place.

Crowley could deduce that someone had tried to kill them, slit their throat with some sort of blade, a dagger perhaps, that was meant to end them; however, were the mirror came into all of this was a complete mystery to him. He could recall the dream he had with the two people being together and assumed that they must have been friends of their; however, again he did not know for sure. All he could do right now was theorize their injuries and how they got from “point A” to “point B”.

Eventually the wound was cleaned enough, he tried to miracle the wound entirely closed but, it only went halfway before seizing to close all the way; it was almost like their body had rejected the miracle completely. The red line was still on their throat not as deep or as irritated as it was before, but it was still there with deep scabs formed around their neck like a necklace or red rope. He tried again, pulling his energy to heal the remaining bit of the wound but, it did not work.

 _“That’s strange?”_ Crowley thought as he sat back and wondered how they had been able to seize the miracles and healing process on their body.

He shrugged it off and dressed their wound in a white bandage; their clothes where still caked in blood but, he did not want to miracle their cloths clean or a new set of cloths on them. He decided the best thing he could do was to let them sleep and, perhaps get Aziraphale to help him uncover what was inscribed on the mirror.

* * *

Crowley paced around the back room of the bookshop, Aziraphale sitting at his desk with his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he looked over the burned inscriptions on the mirror.

Just an hour before, Crowley had barreled into his flat with blood covering his hands and cloths; he hadn’t thought of changing or miracleing himself clean since his mind was in a rush. Aziraphale stood there bewildered at the state of Crowley, he was frazzled beyond words, pacing around explaining everything so quickly Aziraphale had no idea what he was saying. Crowley threw his hands up in the air and within a snap of his fingers they were in the back room of the bookshop with the woman lying on his sofa with a bandage wrapped around her neck and bloodied water and cloths in a bowl on the coffee table besides her.

Aziraphale was beyond shocked at the state of the woman on his sofa, she was so thin and frail; however, she seemed rather familiar to him in a way that he could not quiet place; Crowley had explained that he had broken the mirror, and then they had popped out of it in a burst of light. The familiarity made more sense to Aziraphale but, that did not shake the feeling of familiarity with them, almost like he had seen them somewhere before the mirror but, could not place them if he tried.

Crowley explained that the mirror had engravings on it that were written in the holy language and he could not read them; leading to Aziraphale having the shattered remains of the mirror resting on his desk with him writing down the symbols on a separate piece of paper to decipher them a bit better.

“Crowley, stop pacing before you wear a whole in the floor.” Aziraphale muttered through deep concentration; he could see Crowley’s pacing out of the corner of his eye for the last half an hour now.

Crowley stopped and sank into a chair he miracled out of thin air.

“Find anything yet?” he asked as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair waiting for Aziraphale to respond.

Aziraphale frowned, the lines on his face appearing prominent as he thought deeply at the item he was studying before him; his hands were dressed in white gloves with a magnifying glass at his side as well as various tools.

“I have been able to decipher some of this, it seems that this was a binding spell of some kind?” Aziraphale explained as he got up from his seat at his desk and searched through the various volumes of books in his back room before selecting a mildew green tome off the shelf.

He took it back to his desk; flipping through the yellowed pages of the book carefully until he landed on a page he was looking for. Leaving it open and using a pair of tweezers to pluck out a few large shards of glass and setting them on a small towel resting next to him; he removed a few more pieces of glass and stared at the remaining frame of the mirror. His eyes widened a bit, which caught Crowley’s attention.

“What is it angel?” Crowley asked as he arose from his seat and sauntered over to where Aziraphale was seated and looked at the mirror.

Behind the part were the mirror’s reflective part was supposed to be where a bunch of ruins in a sort of sigil written in the same angelic language; the golden ruins and other marks of the sigil stood out against the dull frame on the inside of the mirror.

“What is that angel?”

“I-I did not think that anyone could still use this?” Aziraphale stammered out, his face turning a bit pale.

“What is it exactly, I have no idea of what I’m looking at here?”

Crowley’s headed tilted to the side as he observed the ruins before him.

“This-this was a sigil used to ensnare souls and keeping their physical body with them; I hadn’t realized that this was a bit different until I noticed the symbols burned into the front of this were the words that explain its purpose.” He explained.

“So, what does it exactly say, I mean the words on the front?”

“It reads _: ‘For bound in silver till day’s no more, or till the reflection shatters to release the soul aboard; no matter abhorred or adored this being stays inside till it is released from conform.’_ I have no idea what they were of need of ‘conform’ or what the ‘day’s no more’ means, but I can only assume that it is mentioning till the world ends or they learned some form of lesson?”

“That’s weird that they put it like that?” Crowley stated. “Why not put it, break mirror and person inside is released or wait till world ends; why do they have to go through the fucken trouble to make the explanation of the mirrors procedures rhyme?”

“That never makes any sense, every single old, cursed artifact has that stupid rhyme thing going on since the world was created; who actually sat down and went, I want to make it rhyme instead of getting to the point?” Crowley rambled on. “Its stupid, even prophesy books do that kind of shit!”

Aziraphale shot Crowley a disapproving look.

“I have no idea dear, perhaps to keep people from figuring it out or doing it for fun so people have to predict what it is; that’s how I see it?” Aziraphale explained.

“Back to the main point I was on dear, this mirror didn’t say this until you dropped it and broke it; meaning that there was never any way that you were going to figure it out unless you broke it. Whoever had placed that woman into this mirror made sure that there was no way of knowing that they were bound to it?”

Crowley nodded in agreement, it seemed whoever had bound them to the mirror in the first place meant to keep them there without anyone knowing, but why was the question?”

“What about the sigil in the center?”

“The sigil is apart of the binding spell, the directives were what I just read to you, the actual sigil part is what is a bit off to me. It is a rather powerful sigil used to hold immensely powerful being to it; the last time I had seen anything like this was back in the time of King Arthur.” Aziraphale explained. “The other strange thing is that this sigil has a few differences to it, and that is it seems like the person who had written it had done it a bit wrong; hence the overwhelming feelings, nightmares, and being physically drained were a common occurrence. It probably personified her feelings, causing those problems for anyone who encountered it.”

Crowley took in that information for a moment, the sigil had been written wrong this whole time and that was what was causing them problems; causing this woman’s grief and pain to be exemplified to everyone in contact with the mirror. Crowley wondered how many times someone had gotten rid of the mirror just because of that reason, thinking it was cursed and throwing it away like he had almost done? He had also wondered why this sigil was something that was off to Aziraphale, yes it was powerful and contained powerful beings and all, but why was it a strange sight to see after all this time?

“Angel, why is it that this sigil is off to you, and not for the reasons you just explained?”

Aziraphale fidgeted for a moment with the hem of his waist coat and turned the pages of the book next to him to a page with the exact same sigil on it.

“The sigil is no longer used because it was banned, after a few mishaps they went through and had the sigil removed from tombs made in Heaven; I kind of hid a copy or two so Heaven wouldn’t tear out the pages and burn them. I think they banned the sigil after King Arthur and before the Renaissance, but I can be wrong on the exact time?”

Crowley frowned slightly at that, it didn’t give them a precise answer; he knew for a fact that the woman on the sofa was not from any of those periods and probably was from the late 1960s or so by her cloths alone. 

“I don’t think they are from either of those times?”

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and the woman on his sofa.

“I don’t think so either dear, but who has knowledge of that kind of sigil is beyond me?” Aziraphale explained. “All I know is that no one in heaven has that kind of knowledge in that anymore, so whoever has that knowledge is a tad bit concerning for me dear.”

“I’m concerned to angel, let’s just hope that whoever has that information has forgotten about it. Heaven aren’t the brightest in the world when it come to things, come on think about all them not knowing anything about humanity?”

Aziraphale chuckled a bit at that.

“You are right dear; all we can do I guess is hope.”


	4. Explanations and Catch-up

Crowley and Aziraphale had taken to talking quietly amongst themselves for the following hours in the backroom; the woman from the mirror laying on the sofa in a deep slumber.

They opted against consuming alcohol as they usually did; instead Aziraphale and Crowley were seated in armchairs next to one another sipping on tea and discussing theories of the woman on the from the mirror. The lights were dimmed to allow them to sleep without the light bothering them as they laid lifeless with their hair still in their face.

“Do you think they are another anti-Christ like Adam?” Crowley asked, glancing between the woman on the sofa and Aziraphale with a concern edge to his voice.

Aziraphale shook his head and took a long sip from his favorite mug.

“No, when I talked with them when I was on the spiritual realm, I asked them a similar question and they said it was a definitive no.” Aziraphale explained with the lines on his forehead creasing in deep thought.

“That doesn’t explain why they were in the mirror though?” Crowley pointed out. “The whole mirror thing with being bound in silver bit makes me think that they must have pissed off someone?”

“Language dear, but you do have a fair point, they may have upset a being with power; however, the reason for learning a lesson seems a bit strange. What would they need to learn?”

Crowley shrugged. He didn’t really know how to answer that question.

Aziraphale let out a light sigh and sipped his tea some more as his eyes trailed to the injured being on his couch.

“Do you think they might be like us angel?”

Aziraphale turned his head to face Crowley, his eyebrows knit together as he thought over what he was exactly asking.

“Are you asking if they are like us dear, are you meaning angelic or occult?” Aziraphale asked. “If that is your question, I am not knowing. They didn’t really specify when we talked the first time and they said they were human and non-human since their aura was off?”

Crowley frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about that angel, I think they are human but that whole aura thing threw me off; however, there is nothing now. I don’t sense anything angelic or demonic beside the two of us; I can’t even sense shit from them at all.” Crowley said as he arose from his seat and walked over to the sofa and hovered there for a moment.

He hovered his hand over the woman’s body for a second trying to sense anything off, but he could not feel anything. It was like they were dead, which made Crowley’s heart sink as he stood there; his blood running cold as he realized they were no longer breathing and there was no color in their face.

“Um angel, I don’t think their-

The woman jumped straight up with a distressed cry escaping them; Crowley and Aziraphale jumped at how they sat straight up from their slumber. The woman looked frantically around, her hand moved to her throat and felt the bandage; she did not seem to notice Crowley or Aziraphale until minutes after.

“Hey, hey calm down your fine.” Crowley said coolly, trying to help her seize her panicked episode. “Your safe just calm down.”

Their head snapped to look at Crowley, they stared at him for a moment with an expression that could be described as a ‘deer in the headlights’ look. Their wide eyes could be seen thought their long, unruly bangs. Their head turned slowly to face Aziraphale, who was frozen in place in his chair in shock at the state of the woman staring back at them.

The eventually calmed down, their body becoming less ramrod as they sat there; their hand falling from their throat and resting on their lap. Crowley hadn’t realized till then, but the woman had a pair of fingerless gloves on her hands that were stripped black and blue; he wondered how he hadn’t seen them before but, let that thought slip aside for now.

“How are you feeling?” Crowley asked calmly.

They just sat there for a moment without saying anything; a simple shrug was the only response they both got.

“Can you tell us your name dear?” Aziraphale asked somberly, he did not really know what to expect.

The girl frowned and opened their mouth with their face grimacing as they tried to speak, the only thing that came out was a saddened, hesitant shrill. They leaned back into the sofa with their hand flying to their bandaged throat; a small bloom of scarlet had begun to bleed through the bandage. A grim look was plastered on their face.

They let out a sigh and looked at the deeply saddened and worried expressions staring back at them; they signed with their hands for a moment, mostly for two items to make things a tad bit easier for them: a pad of paper and writing utensil.

It took a moment for them to register what she was asking of them before what she asked clicked their minds after the sheer shock, they were under from the woman before them trying to speak when they couldn’t due to the injury. Aziraphale arose from his chair quickly and crossed the room to his desk and searched through a few of the drawers until he pulled out random pad of yellow paper, he hadn’t used at all; he plucked one of the many pens he had on his desk and, walked to were they sat and handed them the pad of paper and pen.

They took the pad from his hands gingerly and began to write diligently on the notepad before turning it to the two of them. Aziraphale and Crowley squinted at what they had written for a moment and turned on the lamps a bit brighter to read what they had written.

Upon the yellow paper pad held out in front of her.

 _“Hello, who are you two?”_ they wrote.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at them.

“We should be asking you that question, you are the one who just popped into existence?” Crowley asked with a frown on his face, an unamused tone in his voice that came off a bit rude.

She cocked her head to the side and let out a vexed sigh and began to write on the pad again.

“ _touché glasses man, touché but, that didn’t answer my question, who the hell are the two of you? Also, you don’t have to be rude about it.”_

“Apologize for my friend dear-girl, my friend didn’t mean to come off that way to you. I think we got off on the wrong start, my name is Aziraphale and my friend here in Crowley. What is your name dear?”

 _“Iris but, people used to call me Kid,_ ” they wrote. _“Nice to meet the both of you.”_

“Nice to meet you too.” Aziraphale and Crowley said in unison.

Iris nodded slightly and shifted slightly so they were sitting with their legs crossed underneath them on the sofa.

“Would you like some tea dear?” Aziraphale asked as he took his mug in his hands.

She nodded.

“ _That would be rather nice actually, haven’t had tea in ages.”_

Aziraphale squinted at their ever-shrinking handwriting and nodded.

“Okay dear, I’ll be back in a second with your tea. Crowley please don’t bother her to much, she has been through a lot and I won’t have you pestering her with too many questions.” Aziraphale said calmly as he arose from his chair and set his mug down. He tried to sound a bit commanding, but it came off as comical to Crowley.

Crowley shot Aziraphale a look that looked like he was almost offended, he wasn’t of course and laughed it off as another one of his angels attempts to stop his curiosity when he was curious as well.

“Oh, I intend to do no such thing angel!” he said sarcastically.

Iris’s brows furrowed a bit.

“I mean it dear, do be serious you wily serpent.” Aziraphale commented as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Crowley’s attention went from Aziraphale to Iris, his eyebrow raising slightly as he took in the sight of her; he tried to think of one question to ask her without causing a bit of a ruckus with his angel. She seemed to notice him starring and started jotting something down.

“ _I can see the gears in your head turning and staring a hole through me isn’t making things better.”_ They wrote, signaling Crowley out a bit as he stood there.

“Your right Kid, “he shrugged thinking this kid to be a bit more on the sarcastic side. “I didn’t mean to stare a hole through you.”

_“It is fine, I can only imagine showing up unannounced in the state I was is probably not a welcoming sight.”_

“You’re not wrong there kid, to be honest I thought you died on the couch.” Crowley mumbled. “Plus, bleeding all over the place was another thing.”

* * *

Aziraphale returned a moment later with a small cup of tea for her and handed it to her; Iris took it in her hands and took in a deep breath and sighed with her body relaxing a bit more. She really couldn’t remember the last time she had earl grey tea, she always loved the smell and taste of it no matter warm or iced. Her hands were thankful for something warm, since she was cold and didn’t want to bring up the issue with people she was still getting used to being around.

“Do you like the tea dear?” Aziraphale asked with a small, friendly smile on his face.

Iris nodded and took a generous sip of tea and melted into the taste. She set the mug down and picked up the notepad and pen she had set aside on her lap when he handed her the tea.

“ _I like earl grey, thank you again.”_ She wrote with a small, thin smile ever so present on her face before disappearing.

They seemed less ramrod than they had been before, they still looked a little strung out but, bother Aziraphale and Crowley could only assume the things she had been through for the last how many years. They sat in silence for some time drinking their tea. Iris’s hair obscured more of her face when she looked down into her tea, almost like she was in a deep contemplation. Crowley had taken a seat in his chair next to Aziraphale had sank into the fabric of the miracled chair, it didn’t look comfortable the way he was sprawled across the chair, but it was whatever was comfortable to him.

"Can we ask you some questions Iris?" Aziraphale asked, breaking the silence between all three of them.

They looked up slightly and set their tea down on the table; besides, they took the notepad in their hands and began to write down something. They showed the pad of paper to both Crowley and Aziraphale.

_"Depends on the questions?"_ they wrote.

"You don't have to answer questions if you don't want to, if you want you can ask us some questions as well," Crowley said in a comforting tone. "We just are confused about things is all."

“He is right dear, we just want to understand a bit more on some things that have happened to you to help you, if you don’t want to share, we can skip that question till your comfortable talking about it.”

 _"What are your questions?"_

Aziraphale took a sip of tea that he had sitting beside the chair on an end table.

"How old are you exactly, you look like a teenager but, it’s kinda hard to tell?" Crowley asked. "Your hair kind of obscures your face a bit Kid?" 

_"I'm about eighteen or nineteen, so you aren't off when you say teenager, "_ Iris wrote. _"What year is it?"_

Crowley and Aziraphale both stared at one another wondering how to respond to that. They had no idea how long Iris was in the mirror for, let alone why she was trapped in there to begin with. The most obvious thing they had noticed about their appearance was the dated clothing they wore. Crowley had noticed the clothing was outdated when it came to the present fashion, one of the many indicators that they were from a different time was the ruined dress they wore. Beyond that they both really couldn’t get a specific time, if they both could guess, they would have been from the 1960s or 70s.

"Its January 2020 kid, don't known how long you've been away but, that's the current year?"

 _"I've been gone since September of 1987."_

Thirty-three years they had been gone for, for thirty-three years they were trapped in a mirror. Aziraphale and Crowley both stared at each other in disbelief that they had been gone for that long. How much did they know of the present or did the years merge together until they were finally released? They didn't want to think of all the things that could have happened between thirty-three years of their life being taken away from them.

Iris took a moment to let the reality that thirty-three years had gone and passed her by; she began to write again on a new page.

_"Where am I and, what have I missed since I've been gone?"_

"You’re in Soho, England my dear girl. As for what you have missed, I can't really begin to tell you without Crowley and I over complicating things for you."

Crowley nodded in agreement. There was a lot of things that had changed since Iris last seen the world. There was a lot of technological advances that were far to complicated to begin with, plus the media of the world. From politics to wars and all that fun stuff, they would have to explain it to her at some time but, not all at once.

"He's got a point you know, thirty or so years of things can be a bit hard to grasp, so we might have to take a slow approach to things until you get accustom to stuff." Aziraphale explained. “To be honest, I’m not all that accustom to modern technology or things as much as I should be. If anyone would know a thing or two, it would be Crowley.”

_"I know a lot of things have changed since I have been gone. Hell, last time I really knew where I was, I was in the United States."_

"You were in the United States?" Crowley asked with a distasteful tone. "Why in all the bloody places were you there?"

Iris didn't answer that.

Aziraphale shot Crowley a gaze, he could have worded it better and put it in a better tone, so it didn't come off as harsh. 

"Didn't mean to offend yeah kid, just the U.S. is a bit crazy sometimes."

Iris nodded in agreement with a small smile on her face; the first real smile they had seen from her since she arrived.

" _It can be a bit hectic at times, but I did like the scale of the land is all; many beautiful forests and mountains as well as many interesting cities. I loved the ocean; the beaches were always great to be at in the winter months since the South doesn’t get cold like the North does."_

“Do you remember anything in the mirror? How did you even get from the United States to England anyhow?” Crowley asked throwing his hands up dramatically.

Iris mouth twitched into a thin line; that might have not been the best thing to ask.

“ _I remember snippets if that answers your question? As for the one on how I got from the United States to England; the best way I can explain it was through hitchhiking through mail.”_

“You hitchhiked through postal, how in the bloody hell did you do that?!”

Iris raised an eyebrow, even if no one could see her expressions through her long hair.

“ _It involved asking people who came into contact with the mirror to mail me through the U.S. back to England. I kind of got a bit lost in my travels and eventually ended up slipping into a bit of slumber for a bit until I ended up with the last couple that had me before you two.”_

Aziraphale and Crowley both looked at one another with their face plastered in realization that they were fully aware of what was going on out in the world around them; they had known who Anathema and Newt were and had known they had gotten passed off to them.

“Kid how many people did you come into contact with?” Crowley asked.

Crowley did not know what to make of their journey that led them to this present moment; he didn’t understand why they wanted to get back to England from the United States. Crowley nor Aziraphale knew what part of the United States they were even in when they started their journey; Crowley guessed that they might have had family in England and wanted to get back to be with them where they were inconveniently put into a mirror?

Aziraphale thought similarly, but his thoughts were planted in if they had used the people’s energy they were around to manipulate or communicate with them to put her into postal to be shipped back to England. If they had done that for some time, why was it that they went into a slumber after some time before Anathema and Newt came into contact with it?

_“It was quiet a few, if I’m recalling correctly is was around nine or so different people, I’d say ten or eleven at the most before Crowley dropped the mirror.”_

“Did you use your energy or the energy of the people that come across you to communicate with them and have them send you through postage?” Aziraphale asked.

Iris took a sip of her tea.

“ _Well, you see I had no part in the energy draining thing. If I did wear people ou_ _t, I didn’t really know I was doing it; most of the time I used energy from lights and stuff like that but, I guess it affected people more than I had thought. I did use a lot of my energy to come through the last time I came through before the couple before you; I think the reason I was so drained was because I used all my energy up and I had no way to sustain myself for some time and fell into some form of slumber.”_

Crowley frowned with his eyebrows knitting at that. Aziraphale mimicked the same expression as Crowley. They really didn’t know how to respond to that. It made sense, the lights did flicker and other strange events happened, but it was strange that they were not aware of their actions when it came to draining people physically; perhaps they assumed the energy source they were leeching off was electrical?

“What was the last person you were with before you went into a slumber?” Crowley asked leaning back into the chair and shifting his position, so he was sprawled across the chair with his legs dangling over the chairs arm.

Iris sat there for a moment with the notepad falling slightly in their hands; they seemed to think back for a moment. They seemed to mutter mutely almost like they were counting back in time through the various people they had met.

“ _They were an older woman who got the mirror in the mail from her grandson, who was the previous owner, they had me in their house for a while and eventually something happened were I ended up in a box and eventually I started getting drowsy and falling asleep. That was the last thing I remembered before I ended up with the couple before you two.”_ They wrote.

“So, your plan got delayed by an old lady?” Crowley said trying to not chuckle at the fact that an old lady was the demise of their plan to travel through postage.

Aziraphale could see Crowley trying to contain himself and smacked him lightly on the knee. He shot him a disproval look and turned to face Iris, who sat there staring between them.

“Be polite Crowley, they have been through a lot.”

 _“Are you two a couple?”_ They wrote and tilted their head slightly at the both of them.

“Oh yes dear, Crowley and I are a couple. We have been an official couple for a few years now, but we have known each other for a long time now.” Aziraphale said and took Crowley’s hand and looked at one another. The look on each other’s face was that of sheer contentment and love being within one another’s presence.

“Angel please don’t go into the whole how we met thing; I don’t think they want to sit through two or so hours about us.” He said with a small grin and planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek, causing Aziraphale to giggle a bit.

“Oh, I won’t dear,” he said with a small smile to Crowley before turning to Iris. “Oh Iris, I’m so sorry dear, I did not mean to go of the better path.”

“Beaten path, Its beaten path angel.” Crowley groaned slightly at his lover’s misunderstanding of sayings.

“Oh, is that how that saying goes?”

“Yes angel.”

Iris sat there for a moment and watched their friendly banter and small talk before they snapped back to them and shifted their attention back to them on the sofa as they wrote something down on the pad of paper and turned it to face them.

 _“You guys are a cute couple, “_ they wrote

“Oh, that’s very nice of you to say dear-girl.” Aziraphale smiled brightly.

“Were getting off subject angel, kid do you have anything you want to ask us before we keep going, you haven’t really asked anything since we bombarded you with questions?” Crowley asked.

They began to sketch something down.

_“I wanted to ask who was the couple that had me before?”_

Iris took a sip of their tea and waited for their answer.

“Oh, that would be book girl and her husband. The couple before us was Anathema and Newt; they had the mirror before us, and they were the one’s that handed you over to Aziraphale to look after. That was until I broke it on accident.” Crowley explained and threw his hand dramatically in the air while explaining.

Aziraphale shot up when Crowley said that.

“Oh no, how am I going to explain this to Anathema!” Aziraphale said with a look of panic on his face; he began fidgeting with the hem of his waist coat as he rang out his nervous twitch.

“Hey angel, calm down, it’s okay, she won’t be pissed at you.” Crowley reassured as he placed his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, feeling how he tensed slightly before relaxing a bit and leaning into his touch.

He eventually calmed down and took a sip of his tea, it had grown a bit cold, but he did not mind. His nerves finally dwindled after a bit that as he began fiddling with his favorite mug; Crowley frowned a bit and tried to think about a way to change the subject to help ease Aziraphale’s mind a bit. He patted Aziraphale’s shoulder and turned his attention to Iris to see she had written something on the note pad.

_“I don’t think she’ll be mad with you at all, if anything she’ll probably be pissed with me since I cause them, and you guys a bunch of problems. Apologize for the inconveniences I caused you all.”_

Crowley kind of nudged Aziraphale, who snapped out of his trance and read what they had wrote; A frown crossed his face as he sat there.

“I don’t think they will be upset with you dear since you had really no idea you drained them at all; I’m not upset with you and you made Crowley and I sick for a while.” Aziraphale explained and drank the last bit of his tea and set his cup to the side. A small smile was on his face, an accepting smile.

Crowley was a bit taken back by the fact his angel can be so forgiving, even after everything that happened. He didn’t sense Iris was lying about anything but, he could see that they were a bit nervous or dismayed by the fact they caused people pain on accident and drained them; Iris was probably uneasy because they didn’t know how they would react.

“ _Where was I before the couple before me got me, I can’t spell their names out?”_

“Oh that, they found you at some sort of antique shop near Tadfield; Newt purchased the mirror and that was that. He gave the mirror to Anathema as an anniversary gift.”

Iris sat there for a moment and slumped back a bit into the sofa.

“ _Ok, any other questions?”_

Crowley leaned forward, fixing his position in his chair so he was facing them better, his feet planted on the floor in front of him; a strange look crossed his face, it was a curious look, but it had a bit of a different intent behind it that Iris and Aziraphale were a little bit unsure about. It was a look that Aziraphale knew, a look that he was going to push the questioning a bit further than would be comfortable for a person stuck in a mirror for thirty or so years.

"Why were you in the mirror to begin with?" Crowley asked.

Iris froze for a moment before responding.

" _I rather not discuss that, perhaps later on."_

Silence soon enveloped the room; it was a deafening silence that seemed to make all three of them uncomfortable.

"Iris may I ask you something?"

They nodded.

"What happened to your throat, it looked rather damaged dear? I don't mean to ask anything to personal but, it seems that it has been with you for a while?"

Aziraphale fidgeted slightly after he had said that he hoped he hadn't come off rude to them. 

Iris just stared off for a moment and scribbled something hastily on the pad of paper before them.

_"It's a long story."_


	5. What Shall We Do Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a few things I stared in this chapter ( they are mostly paint colors).
> 
> there is also a song in this chapter as well ( add song name and other details in end notes)

Things still didn't make a lot of sense when it came to Iris. They all found themselves on ever ground after sitting down and chatting for a while; however, that still didn't answer all the questions that Crowley and Aziraphale had regarding to them.

Aziraphale had offered Iris a place to stay, having miracled an additional bedroom so they didn't have to sleep on the sofa till they got their life in order; Iris was hesitant to take the offer at first but, decided it was a better option then wandering around in the night until they crashed on the street somewhere.

Aziraphale lead them upstairs to his flat with Crowley in toe; Crowley felt a weird vibe about Iris that he could not quiet explain. He didn’t know why he felt strange around them, but he sensed there was something off about them; that may have been to Iris being trapped in a mirror or just the strange aura about them. Iris’s aura was faint, almost like it was suppressed somehow in their being; Aziraphale had also said they didn’t say yes or no to being human or non-human, so that added to his uncertainty with them.

Crowley shrugged it off thinking that at some other time he could ask them. He followed behind the both of them until they entered Aziraphale’s flat; Crowley assumed that Aziraphale had miracled the lights on before they made it up to his flat. They all stepped inside, which Iris’s brows knit slightly at the sight of his flat and started jotting down something quickly.

“ _I like your flat, its really cozy. Also, what color is your wall papering, I have never seen that hue of green before?”_

Aziraphale smiled brightly at the complement.

“Oh, thank you dear,” he smiled. “As for the wall papering, it is a color they don’t make any more I’m afraid; it is a rather lovely color. This particular hue is called Paris Green, apparently it is quite lethal due to the ingredients in it; if my love here didn’t tell me that ages ago, I wouldn’t have fixed the problem.”

Crowley smiled and leaned in, planting a kiss on Aziraphale’s head, making Aziraphale blush slightly with a passionate smile appearing across his face. A small giggle escaping him as a giddy feeling filled him.

“Just looking out for you angel,” Crowley smiled.

Iris cocked her head slightly and began writing something down, an eyebrow raised with a questioning look on her face.

“ _Paris Green? I have heard of the color before but as Emerald Green. I have never seen the color before because, as you said it is quiet toxic. It contained arsenic, so how did you keep the color the same?”_

“Oh, that is easy, you just remove the toxic elements from the color and find substitutes to keep the color the same.”

“ _How did you do that if the toxic ingredients are what makes the color as vibrant as this?_ _It doesn’t make sense to me in some cases, its kinda like all the other colors you can’t buy or find any more like Vermillion Red* or Mummy Brown*.”_

Aziraphale and Crowley stared at them for a long time, wondering how they knew about colors that no longer existed; yes, these colors may have been recreated but, they weren’t the same hue anymore.

“Ah so you’re an art history kid huh?” Crowley said with a bit of a surprised expression on his face; his eyebrow raised in interest at their knowledge in old colors.

_“In a sense yes. I have always found art interesting, as well as many other things.”_

Crowley nodded slightly at that, thinking it interesting to bump into an artist or someone who appreciates the arts in a sense that wasn’t Aziraphale or book girl; however, book girl only liked a few painters and artists throughout history.

Aziraphale politely interrupt the silence between them.

“Hate to interject you two but, I know your probably tired dear and I would like to show you your room; if you want after you can sit with us and watch the tele or just hang out in your room.”

Aziraphale led Iris down the hall with Crowley following behind.

The room was small with a comfortable bed, desk, chair, floor length mirror, and wardrobe; the room was like every other room in Aziraphale's flat, from the old-fashioned furnishings to the old wallpaper and trimming that decorated the walls of every room. The old difference was the color of the wallpaper was a light-toffee color with felt designs on the wallpaper. In the far side of the room was a small, personal bathroom for their use; Aziraphale had miracled a pair of PJs into the bathroom for them, and of course they were tartan. There was also fresh gauze-bandages for their throat as well as a few things for cleaning the wound.

Iris investigated the room ahead of them and stood their ramrod for a moment. Crowley had noticed how uncomfortable they were looking into the room past Aziraphale’s shoulder.

"There you are dear, if you need anything throughout the night, our room is just down the hall." Aziraphale said in a reassuring voice, knowing that they had been through enough already. 

Aziraphale did not know what they had been through but, he could only assume through a lot judging by their skittish behavior towards them and the wound on their throat.

Iris stepped carefully into the room and peaked behind the door and in the wardrobe; almost like she was expecting something or someone to pop out and hurt her. She started searching around with a paranoid essence about her; they seemed to search every nook and cranny of the room until they seemed to relax a bit.

"Are you alright kid, you look like you’re expecting someone?" Crowley asked with a confused look on his face as he saw her looking in the wardrobe that was fairly empty besides the nightie that Aziraphale had miracled into the closet for them.

They turned on their heels slowly and shook their head quickly; their relaxed posture returning to its stiffed state that they had seen her in not an hour ago.

"Kid, your fine, there is no one here besides us okay," Crowley began to reassure them in a comforting tone. "You are safe here, safer here than probably anywhere else; if you need anything just ask."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. Crowley had known that he had warded his bookshop after the non-apocalypse incase their former employers came looking for them; it was just a precaution was all and Crowley and Aziraphale both knew that. 

"Crowley is quite right, you are safe here dear girl, there is nothing to worry about," Aziraphale explained with a small worried look on his face. "We'll leave you be now, get some sleep or if you would like you can join us in the living room to watch the tele."

Iris nodded to them both as Crowley pulled the door closed, leaving her be for the night. 

As soon as the door clicked closed, Aziraphale and Crowley both looked at one another with worried expressions plastered on their faces; they had no idea what they had walked into but, they both had the same sense of confusion and concern about the whole situation. They barely knew what to make of the situation before them, no idea what Iris had gone through for the last thirty or so years or before that, let alone what it was like to be trapped in a mirror. Yes, they did know that they had hitchhiked through the postal like they had said but, that didn’t help them understand how or why they were in the mirror.

Even with the uncertainty they faced ahead of them, they knew they had to help them get their footing again, that's the best they can do for the time being.

Crowley and Aziraphale had watched tv mindlessly for a while until they calm down enough to head off to bed. Iris hadn’t come out of their room, which was understandable, they probably well asleep Crowley and Aziraphale had watched the tv together mindlessly for a few hours; trying to calm down enough from the day to head to bed. Crowley just wanted to calm down enough with Aziraphale at his side; a blanket was wrapped around them both. They opted to not drink that night, they did not want to pull the scotch or other alcohol from the cabinet.

Iris didn’t come out of their room to join them, which they understood the reason; they probably fell asleep and or were winding down a bit and coming to terms with things. They could not imagine what they had gone through.

Crowley had an idea of how they possibly felt, he slept through a large part of the 19th century but, he did that intentionally; he had slept on his own terms and lost track of time. Causing him to wake up towards the end of the 19th century*. Upon awakening, a lot of things had changed and many of the mortal companions he had befriended, mostly artists and or astrologists, were either old or had long since passed away. He had to change to the times, which was a bit hard at first; he assumed that Iris felt the same way, having been gone for so long and probably having minimal clue to what had happened in the last thirty or so years, let alone what happened two years ago before the non-apocalypse.

Aziraphale also has some idea of how they felt as well, knowing how Crowley was at the 19th century and how he had fallen behind with the times; having to learn technology but never keeping up with it like Crowley had. Aziraphale barely wanted to update from his shop phone; however, Crowley had insisted on him updating and bought him a brick of a cellular device called a _Nokia_ and then a small flip-phone when they were popular in the early 2000’s that he barely used and or had refused to update.

Same thing that came with the old, yellowed computer that he had purchased in the 90s to keep up with his bookkeeping; Crowley badgered him to get a computer to make things easier than writing everything down by hand. He had barely known how to work the contraption, let alone run programs on it without Crowley’s assistance for some time when he had gotten it; he eventually found his way around it but, primarily used it as a terminal to keep his paperwork on file. Never changing the background of the computer, nor running it for too long since it was rather loud when it booted up.

In all he had avoid doing anything drastic when bringing himself up to date; however, he assumed that Iris was probably like him in some cases. Having to now learn the bouts of the world and the ever-changing advances it brought; both good and bad.

* * *

Crowley and Aziraphale got ready for bed eventually. Crowley miracled his black, silk pajamas and laid down on the ancient bed Aziraphale had bought ages ago and had not changed since. His eyes were glued to the ceiling in thought about all that had happened today, first was Anathema being a mess and then the mirror that had some pour soul trapped inside. Whatever had happened to Iris and why they were in the mirror in the first place made him wonder.

Were they in the mirror because it was originally cursed, and they were trapped inside by mistake or was there the possible involvement with upstairs that lead to them being incrassated like that? Hell, the only reason he thought upstairs was probably involved was due Aziraphale bringing up the ruins carved into the mirror; if Heaven was involved, then what did Iris due to cause that?

Crowley thought faintly about what if they had lied to them, what if they were another antichrist that he knew nothing about? He didn't like that theory in the slightest, that perhaps both Heaven and Hell had a backup detonation button that they had introduced to the world ages ago. The only part of that theory that was off was the wound on their throat. He wondered if they had at some point turned Heaven and Hell down and they sealed them away after attempting to kill them? 

The door creaked open which; Crowley's attention shifted slightly see Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale had three books tucked under his arm and a small tin or shortbread biscuits to keep himself busy as the night went on. Aziraphale rarely, if ever, slept and had not gotten into the habit of it like Crowley had; they did not really need to sleep or anything since they weren't technically human. They did not have to do a lot of things but, it had become common habits for the both of them over the millennia they had spent on Earth. 

Aziraphale set the tin of biscuits and books down on the nightstand beside him; he pulled the covers and sheets up and tucked himself in the bed. Aziraphale let out a deep sign and turned to face Crowley; Crowley was staring again at the ceiling with a deep frown on his face. 

"Dear are you okay?"

Crowley turned to face Aziraphale.

"Just thinking is all Angel, I'm fine, sorry for worrying you," Crowley said with the frown disappearing from his face.

"hm." Aziraphale hummed and smiled down at Crowley.

Crowley smiled back at him and snuggled closer to Aziraphale, which Aziraphale lightly scratched Crowley's scalp. Crowley melted into the touch and closed his eyes slightly; he relaxed and sank into the bed beneath him. Aziraphale smiled warmly and turned to read one of the many books that he had brought up with him; he made sure the light was dim as to not disturb Crowley. 

"Are you asleep dear?" 

Crowley mumbled incoherently in response.

"I wanted to ask what you were thinking before I interrupted you," Aziraphale asked. "You seemed a bit in deep thought there for some time is all?"

Crowley shifted to sit up. he ran his hands through his hair to pull it out of his face; he turned to face Aziraphale and sighed.

"Just thinking about everything that happened today is all," Crowley muttered with a hint of concern in his voice. "Wondering about Iris too, wondering why they were trapped is all."

Aziraphale set his book off to the side and leaned forward.

"I have been wondering the same things dear, they didn't seem to want to discuss the matter any further. Perhaps they aren't comfortable talking about it just yet. I think I would be too if I were trapped in a mirror in that kind of state."

Aziraphale shuttered at that idea, being trapped in a mirror like they had for all this time; it seemed dreadful.

"I think your right Angel but, I got a bad feeling about them thought."

Aziraphale's knit his eyebrows.

"What would make you say that dear?"

Crowley shifted so he was sitting with his legs crossed; his eyes locked with Aziraphale's. 

"I think they might be another antichrist; I know you said they weren’t but what if they lied to us?" Crowley muttered, a sense of dread filling him. “It was just a thought though, I know you said they didn’t define that they were human or not, so my mind wandered to that.”

Aziraphale's face faltered at the idea of another antichrist, another end of the world being at their front door again; however, Aziraphale didn't think they could be another antichrist, he somehow trusted them and tried to see the good in them. They did not seem like they could be another doomsday button; they just seemed normal besides the strange feeling the mirror gave off they were trapped in it, and of course their answer.

"Dear I don't think they are like Adam at all," Aziraphale began, "I think they are fairly normal, I don’t think they would have lied to us dear, if they did you or I would have sensed it when we talked to them.”

Crowley shook his head and cast his gaze to the crumpled comforter. Aziraphale had pointed out the truth, he did not feel that they were lying but, he felt you could never truly be to carful.

"There is something wrong Aziraphale. I know you said they did not say they were human or non-human but, think they might be something more powerful than that or they may be like us. If they are another antichrist, I don’t want to lose you or this world angel; I love you too much and I don’t want to lose you again." Crowley said, his voice was hushed but he just by how he was getting worked up Aziraphale knew this was not the only think that Crowley was thinking about.

“You won’t lose me dear, the fire in the bookshop happened on accident; yes, I was discorporated and got my body back, but I was still here. I’m sorry I made you panic over me; I could only imagine how you felt.” Aziraphale explained with a pang in his chest, planting a kiss on Crowley’s forehead and taking his hand in his own. “But still, I don’t see them to be another Adam, they are too old to be another antichrist, so they may be something different; where do you assume Iris is from dear?”

Crowley stared back at the ceiling and vaguely motioned to the ceiling. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow as he stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was motioning to.

“You think their from Sweden dear?” Aziraphale stared at him confused.

“Ngh, no angel.” He did get a bit frustrated.

“Then what do you mean dear?”

Crowley dramatically tossed his hand up to the ceiling. "I think they are from upstairs, they can’t be from Hell, otherwise I would have sensed it, so perhaps they are from upstairs?"

Aziraphale pondered that thought for a moment before saying anything. He had an idea of where that theory came from, the whole mirror and its enchantments were enough to even make Aziraphale think the same thing. As he had explained before, that precise spell was banned in Heaven for various reasons, and only Angels or other holy beings could read that language; he had no idea why someone would want to imprison them, but he had an assumption they many have been angel like himself, but he had barely sensed their presences at all when he arrived in the bookshop. Iris’s aura was faint, but he still could get a sense that they were somewhat human; however, the cold feeling of Heaven he had felt when he had talked to them the first time, he had sensed them when he opened the box. Aziraphale had no idea if Crowley had felt what he had felt that subtle feeling of a heavenly essence?

“I think you many be on to something there dear. I did feel some sort of strange aura around them when they were still in the mirror; perhaps they are from upstairs?” Aziraphale explained as he shifted slightly so his back was pressed against the headboard of the bed.

Aziraphale turned to face Crowley seeing how he was staring now at him; his sunglasses had come off while Aziraphale stared off at the ceiling above him in deep thought. His honey-colored eyes glistening in the dim light; a strange look drawn on his face of concern.

“You sensed them didn’t you, that weird aura didn’t you dear?”

Crowley nodded turning his body, causing his shirt to lift a bit, revealing a bit of his lean torso as he did so.

“Yeah, angel I felt something, a small presence more than anything; it was unsettling since I didn’t know where they were. They were like an echo of music bouncing off the walls.” 

“Music?” Aziraphale questioned. “I did hear music, when I went to talk to them in the spiritual plane, it was kind of strange.”

Crowley’s face drained of color a bit when Aziraphale said that.

“What kind of music did you hear angel?” he said shooting up, startling Aziraphale a bit.

“Dear don’t jump up like that, the music isn’t important.” Aziraphale said trying to sooth Crowley now that he was probably riled up again with the thought of Iris and the mysteries still around them. “It was just old music, and that was that.”

He sighed and pulled Crowley into a hug running his hand through Crowley’s hair; Crowley rested his chin on the soft curve of Aziraphale’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him. They stayed like this for some time until Crowley eventually calmed down enough and pulled away slightly.

"Crowley, I think we should put this off for the night until morning, maybe then we can talk to Iris about it." 

Crowley nodded feeling a bit shaken after hearing that; however he had calmed down a bit and smirked with a bit of uncertainty on his face.

"Ye-Yeah Angel, I think your right, its been a long day..." 

Crowley leaned back and laid back with Aziraphale lying next to him again like they had been before they started talking. Aziraphale had returned to reading the book he had set down.

"Angel?" Crowley muttered slightly.

"Yes dear?"

"What do you think about this whole situation?"

Aziraphale sighed and lowered his head into his book. he sat there for a moment in deep thought before responding his expression changing steadily to a saddened expression.

"To be honest with you dear, I don't know."

Iris didn't sleep.

Once the door closed, she still looked around the room dressed in the same attire she had been in when she was released; she took in a deep breath and carefully walked to the bathroom and began the shower. Removing the bandages from her throat carefully and looked in the fogged mirror; the dress she had worn was set on the counter.

Iris stared at the dress for a moment, her mind replaying the same thing repeatedly in her head as she stood there. The same scene, the uncomfortableness in the room; the utter betrayal that followed before she was sealed away into the mirror. Her mind seemed to melt as she remembered the faces staring back at her. The last thing she heard echoing in her head:

_“Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown away my generosity; perhaps some time away will fix that, huh?”_

Iris shuttered at that voice, the voice that would haunt her; the last saying she had heard from someone she had known long ago. The caked-on blood on the collar of the dress filled her with a sense of dread and sadness; the last memories of her voice filling her ears before being silenced. She removed her gloves and set them aside on the counter; feeling a bit lost and nervous that the familiar fabric was gone against the flesh on her hands.

She washed, feeling on auto pilot as she did so, she hadn’t realized how thin she had gotten; her ribs had become a little more pronounced under her ivory flesh. Her bones seemed to peak out more, giving her body a sharper edge than it had once before; for thirty or so years in a mirror, she had expected to remain the same with a few changes but, not like this. Her long hair continued to fall over her face as she stood there under the faucet; the hair sticking to her face, even after she had washed her hair and face. Her hunched posture and protruding bones on her back of her too tight skin. She could see a trail of scarlet trickle down the drain at her feet as she stared at the floor of the shower in a hypnotized state.

When she finally stepped out of the shower and got dressed in the cloths left for her; she felt a bit better than she had before. She slipped on her gloves and whipped the fogged mirror to see her haunted reflection staring back at her for a moment; she down cast her eyes and pulled her hair our of her face, knowing it was going to dry and hide her face anyhow. She did not care about what she looked like anymore; all she saw was a person who was broken and the reason they lost everything. She wrapped the bandage around her throat, avoiding the ghastly reflection that stared at her from the corner of her eye as she fitted the bandage snugly around her throat.

Iris did not leave the room, rather she just sat there on the un-disrupted bed with her legs crossed. She did not know how to register what had happened since she was gone. All she knew was that she had to take baby steps at a time to get back on track; it would have been like the first time she was out and about, but at least she had an idea on how things worked.

Iris was not tired; she did not want to sleep nor need it. She did not know how to sleep anymore after not really having a body for so long; it felt weird having her body back. It felt like her soul was sloshing around inside her body, not settling comfortably into her form, and making her feel off balanced. She felt to tight in her skin as well, which added to her discomfort as a whole.

She did not want to bring up the fact with her hosts that she did not have a body when she was trapped; she merely floated around in a void forever not really knowing how much time had passed after a certain point.

The whole situation of her soul and body filled her with dread just thinking about it. The memories of distorted echoes filling her mind. It was almost like someone had tossed her into a well and there was no end to it; she just kept falling until she felt like she was floating around in outer space. Everything sounded so far away when she was there in that plane of reality, a place where no one could hear her no matter how much she cried out in incoherent mutters; whatever they had done to her throat before she went away, she could not talk. 

Her hand traveled to her throat and lightly touched the bandage there, grimacing at the pain that still lingered there after all this time. She had hoped it would have healed on its own and she could at least talk once it did; however, all this time later it still was barely healed. She sighed and leaned back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes charting the pattern of the ceiling that hung above she felt out of place in the world as she laid there. She sank into the bed beneath her and closed her eyes and just laid there for some time; she couldn’t entirely relax, she was just laid there trying to relax from the anxiety that had built up throughout her time in the mirror, and from this day alone.

She tried her best to calm down, letting her mind wander to another time. Her eyes fluttered open as she recalled a time before; she recalled a subtle time that lulled her into comfort. A time of companionship with someone she cared about deeply: her lover. The lover she lost, the cold feeling now sinking in that they were no longer there; the aching feeling in her heart returning in her chest. A hard lump formed in her throat as she swallowed down the pain they felt; a burning began forming behind her eyes with cool tears spilling down her face.

She sobbed silently with pain spreading around her throat as she wept; she felt utterly alone and cold to the world. She didn’t have them in the world, nor the people she had known before she was incased in the mirror; all the people she had befriended probably forgot about them, knowing the individual she had dealt before being sealed away probably whipped their memories so they wouldn’t search for them. She breathed in a cold, jagged breath, and tried to put the awful, plausible, thoughts out of her mind. She tried to ignore the sounds of a distant monitor and the dreaded, cold panic, wave that radiated through her as her world crumbled around her.

She shoved her mind to think of other things; her mind wandering as to what to do now.

She could go home hoping it was still where it was before; she had a habit of moving around quite a bit back when, but she was sure that the last residence was on Barb St. near London, but she could not remember the district it was in. She had no idea how the England she knew had changed, she assumed that a majority of the city layout had changed since she was up and about; nothing can stay the same forever, and even she knew that for a fact. She knew she could just pop out and look around, but she did not want to get lost in the night looking for the street; she also had no idea how safe the streets were at this time and opted to wait till morning. 

Her mind drifted to her hosts, trying to remember their names. The red headed gentlemen in the sunglasses seemed to act a bit off around her as the blonde gentlemen seemed to remind her of someone, she had met many years ago. She could recall having seen someone like him many years ago, but she didn't know from were. It might be a coincidence that she might have indeed been talking with someone she had only met once or twice, but it just did not seem likely. He would have sensed something off about her if he were who she thought he was; her essence was masked, but it was not in the mirror so, they surely would have sensed something. Iris realized she probably was already sold out just by how the blonde's associate was acting around her; she knew they both were not human in the slightest due to their aura's but found it easier to pretend to be normal, avoid any unnecessary questions.

* * *

_"Can I ask you two something?"_ Iris wrote. She tugged at the sleeve on the long-sleeved dress Crowley had miracle for her.

They were all sitting around the dining table enjoying breakfast; Crowley and Aziraphale playfully bantered back and forth about books and ideals of philosophy. They were so wrapped up in their talking that they had not noticed Iris had asked them something.

Crowley turned to look at the notepad and motioned between him and Aziraphale. Aziraphale smiled and could see how Iris seemed to sink back in the kitchen chair.

“Yes dear, we actually wanted to ask you something to, but we will let you ask your question first.” Aziraphale smiled and nudged at Crowley, who was staring off in the distance.

Crowley turned his attention from the void he stared off into and a took a sip of his coffee. Aziraphale took a sip of his tea and waited for her to finish what she was writing on the pad of paper.

_"I wanted to ask you if you could take me somewhere, I remembered where I lived last night but didn't know how to get there since things have changed?"_

"Where do you live at dear, you said the last place you were was in the America's before you ended up here?" Aziraphale asked.

“We can probably fly you over kid, if that’s you last residence?” Crowley offered. “It’s not like I can drive the Bentley over the Atlantic Ocean.”

Aziraphale shot him an all-knowing look of sarcasm.

“You did drive it through a ring of fire dear-heart; if I’m calling correctly.” He said as he took a sip of his tea with his eyes shoot Crowley a glance.

Crowley tried to pull a frown at that but knew Aziraphale meant it as a joke. The only think that came to mind was him being just a bit of a bastard in all the good ways; and Crowley absolutely adored it, even if he was bringing up the non-apocalypse and the charred remains of his car from the M25.

Iris shook her head at the offer.

" _No thank you, I did live in the United States for some time, but I also lived in England as well."_

"Where did you live at dear?"

Iris frowned slightly and took some time to write things down before showing them.

_'I lived on Barb St. just outside of London, I have no idea what district it would be now if they changed districts and it is a different part? All I know was I lived there when staying in England and would travel to the United States to stay on the West coast."_

Crowley was making quick work finding the street she was referring to on his phone, looking up just the street. He looked up from his phone after finding his way there. He could see Iris was rather confused about wherever he was doing.

"Do you know that address?" Crowley asked.

_"No, I'll know the house once we get there, it kind of stands out a bit."_

Iris picked up the cup of tea before her and took a long sip from it and took a few bites of the blueberry pancakes that Crowley and Aziraphale had made before she woke up. It was absolutely heavenly to Iris since she hadn't eaten anything in a long time. She savored every bite like it was her last meal on the planet.

"I found the street, it’s about a twenty or so minute drive from here," Crowley said and shifted so he leaned forwards to show him the map that showed their current location to the street they were looking for. 

“I didn’t know you had a map on your cellular device, that is rather smart they added that.” Aziraphale said in awe at the resourcefulness of modern technology.

Iris stared at the device for a moment and pointed to the device in his hand. Her eyebrows were knit with confusion; it was a map for sure, but it was strange to see a map on whatever strange device he held in his hands in front of her.

"Oh, yeah don't think you know what this is? This is a phone, honestly humanity had advanced technology a lot since you have been away."

" _Wait that's a phone, how come you have a map on it?"_ She wrote hastily.

Crowley frowned slightly.

"Okay, this is gonna sound a bit odd but, this map is on a thing called an app that you can open on your phone to use its services. Basically, they fit an entire, touch screen, computer into a small handheld device that you can use to connect to the internet; you can read the news and view numerous other websites as well." Crowley explained. "Hell, you can even listen to like music as well and translate things in different languages and hear that language and how it is pronounced!"

Iris stared at the device in wonder and awe and frantically began writing something.

_"Is it okay if I can use the translate website?"_

Crowley's eyebrows knit with bewilderment and looked between Iris and Aziraphale; Aziraphale had the same confused look on his face on why of all things they needed a translator website at this very moment. Crowley typed in the translate engine and handed it to her which, he watched as she took the phone carefully in her hands and began typing something out; she set the phone on the table and pressed a button.

"Is this how this device works?" The phone said.

Iris lifted their hands up away from the phone once it started to speak. Crowley and Aziraphale looked at one another.

"That is actually pretty smart kid." Crowley said in surprise, he had not anticipated them to use the translation website as voice for them to talk.

"I do agree dear, that is quite clever, how did you know it could do that?" 

Iris shrugged and began typing on the phone again.

"Oh, thank you, I didn't know just wondering if this was the button that was be used to translate things out loud, which it does?" the voice said. "Thank you again for loaning me your device for a few minutes, sorry about that."

Iris handed the phone back to Crowley, which he took it from her hand and opened the map app back up to see the location again.

“Nothing to be sorry about kid, your absolutely tickety-boo.” Crowley said as he moved his phone over to the side.

Iris was confused by the strange saying but opted to say nothing.

“Oh dear, before I forget, Crowley and I wanted to ask you something?” Aziraphale said as he moved his empty plate to the side and drained the rest of the tea in his favorite mug. His face growing a bit serious than his normal joyful expression he had worn that entire morning.

Iris shrugged.

“I speak for the both of us dear,” Aziraphale began, motioning between Crowley and himself. “I wanted to ask if you are like us at all?”

“I think your going to have to be more specific than that angel?” Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale sighed and wrung his hands together nervously. He didn’t want to ask the wrong thing to her and make uncomfortable by asking; however, this was the only way in knowing anything about them and why their aura was fainter than any normal aura that Crowley and him had felt.

“I wanted to ask if you are an angel or a demon dear; or somewhere in between being human and other worldly?”

Iris froze for a moment, her face twitching nervously at the fact that they might be onto her. Crowley and Aziraphale both noted her anxious reaction and the sheer horror and discomfort on her face.

“Kid we only wanted to ask because we both are non-human ourselves; your aura is all off so you might as well be honest.” Crowley explained and tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so she could see his serpent eyes.

The began to frantically write on the notepad; her eyes not even looking down at the paper as she stared between the both of them; she had known the entire time they were non-human but, to have guessed so quickly was another thing.

“ _I’d rather not say.”_

Aziraphale introjected before the situation became more uncomfortable.

“Crowley we’re scaring her half to death; Iris if it makes things easier, we- well – we both left our respective offices and have resided on Earth. We are no longer in contact with any of them and Crowley and I have been left alone for two years after we averted the end of the world.”

_“END OF THE WORLD!!!!!”_

“Probably shouldn’t have said that angel.” Crowley explained as he saw Aziraphale’s face drain with the realization as to what he had just said; he knew he just dropped the ball in relaying information to her at a slow pace till she was comfortable.

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a shark exhale.

“For fucks sake, yes Iris, there was an apocalypse that almost happened two years ago; however, we averted it and now have been left alone since we pissed off everyone from upstairs and downstairs. There is nothing to worry about so, you can calm down okay.”

Iris leaned back in shock at that, the apocalypse could have happened while she was still asleep in the mirror; hell, she was more surprised that it had happened at all in the last thirty or so years and not in the future some time. She could see the world ending around five thousand years from; or perhaps even further than that but, not around this current millennia. She shivered at the thought that her releasement could have been in the middle of a war between Heaven and Hell, and she didn’t want to think of the outcome if she by chance ran into either side while trying to recollect themselves to the hellish scape before them.

Iris took a few minutes in piercing silence to respond to what they had just heard.

_“What about the antichrist?”_

“Oh, they are still around but, for the most part they are human and didn’t take the part in leading the four horsemen to battle anyone; our respective offices weren’t too pleased with Crowley and I for aiding in averting the apocalypse but, that was that.” Aziraphale explained with his eyes glued to his fidgeting hands in his lap. “We actually still keep in contact with everyone from Tadfield for the most part that helped in stopping the apocalypse.”

Crowley nodded in agreement to that and watched as Iris relaxed a tad bit, but not enough. Their body was still a tad bit stiff in their seat as their eyes kept darting between Aziraphale and Crowley.

Aziraphale took in a deep breath and turned his gaze upwards to face Iris.

“Iris if you aren’t comfortable telling us what you are it is okay, we just want to understand, and help is all. If you wish not to say, it is okay. I apologize for overstepping and asking you that if it is too personal still to share; just know that we are non-human and well and don’t care if you are mortal or not.” Aziraphale said with a small apologetic smile on his face and turned his gaze to Crowley who frowned slightly.

“Alright, and I’m sorry too kid.” Crowley said, realizing that he was not probably going to get that answer till a later date.

Iris nodded and took a sip of her luke-warm tea. She really didn’t have anything to say; it was nice to be accepted even if they didn’t yet know what she was and, she felt it was better to keep it that way.

* * *

After breakfast, all three of them headed outside and got into Bentley parked outside the bookshop. Iris sat in the middle of the back seat rather ramrod, almost like it was their first time in a car as nice and as old as Crowley's. Aziraphale watched as Crowley looked over his phone again before heading off down the street; the radio playing one of the various Queen albums that Crowley had popped in.

Iris raised an eyebrow to the taste in music, they didn't disagree with it, it was just a bit refreshing hearing something they were familiar with. Iris turned their attention to look out at the various buildings that they either remembered or didn't. The rain ran down the cars window, various umbrellas bobbed in the rain that tricked down outside and steadily fell on the roof of the Bentley. 

Aziraphale turned to see Iris was glancing out the windows with a distant look on their face; her arms wrapped around her with a large coat Aziraphale loaned her hanging off her form; He could imagine how they felt. Living a millennium on Earth both him and Crowley knew how quickly things changed. How things switched so easily and how new things replaced the old, how things faded into obscurity before their eyes. Even if Iris were away for a short time compared to how long they had been walking amongst humanity, he could only assume how crushing it was to not know anything anymore.

Eventually they made it to Barb St., Crowley slowed down as they glanced from house to house. All the homes were monotonous, having been conjoined housing in a long stretch of street; that was until they saw a house that stood out of place between two houses on the Right side of the street.

The home in question was a made of darker brick than the other houses on the street; the house was a bit older than the more modern homes that stood around it. A large bay window jutted out slightly from the house along with another window that stood out slightly from the house above the old front door. The deep green shingles on the roof looked a bit worn from the years. Aziraphale glanced back again at Iris, seeing her eyes locked with the old house that Crowley had parked in front of.

"Do you have any way to get in dear?" Aziraphale asked. "You didn't seem to have any keys on you when you popped back into existence?" 

Crowley turned around to face them too, seeing that they did not seem all that bothered that they could be locked out of their house and have no way to get inside. Iris just shrugged and got out of the car which, Aziraphale and Crowley followed suit. 

They walked up the old porch of the place, seeing the old brass address resting near the dark green front door, it read: 234-1/2 Barb St. 

Crowley and Aziraphale both looked at each other in bewilderment upon seeing the address for Iris's domicile; they had never seen an address with a one-half apart of any address. It was strange how there was no mail thrown on the front porch or sticking out of the mail slot besides the door; or that Iris just miraculously opened the front door without a key being in the lock. There was no way that they had left the door open for thirty or so years and, no one had been living in their home. 

Before they could say anything to her, she had opened the front door and stepped into her home, kicking off her shoes at the door and standing in the dimly lit foyer for a moment. Iris turned around motioned them to come inside. Crowley and Aziraphale came inside the house and looked around the place.

From what Crowley and Aziraphale could make out in the dim light of her home was that it was larger on the inside then the outside. They stepped into the deep blue, wallpapered foyer with wooden floors, a rug lying before the front door. Tiffany glass windows framed the sides of the door, a half circle window above the door allowed colored light to shine down on the three of them in the foyer; Aziraphale had noticed that the window above the door was designed to appear like a sun. Above them hung a stained-glass chandelier that appeared like an old lantern he had seen in the Middle East.

A large staircase led up to the second floor, the end of the railing was artistically carved to appear like a two headed dragon that was wrapped around the main post at the foot of the stairs. The wooden wings of the dragon jutted out slightly, with its heads facing in different directions with their mouths agape.

The main hallway of the first floor led directly to the kitchen in the back of the house; the light of an open window in the distance reflected off the checkered tiled floor. A door stood open the end of the hall to the Left side.

Near to the front door was a large sliding, wooden door that led into the living room; there was another door on the far side of the living room that led to the kitchen. The large kitchen table could be seen through the other door on the other side of the living room. From what they could see of the living room, it was a well decorated, comfy space with a fireplace on the far wall, which was perfectly aligned with the door to the room. Tall, build in bookshelves framed the side of the teal tiled fireplace; books and various other knick-knacks covered the shelves. The mantle above the fireplace was decorated slightly, with candles with dripping wax that had become imbedded to the mantel as well as a skull, which upon further inspection was a Halloween decoration; a large painting hung above the mantel of a summer field.

Besides the many interesting sights of their home; some things stuck out to them.

One of the many things they had noticed was there was no dust anywhere in the house; even with Iris being gone for as long as she had, the place should have had dust and cobwebs covering every surface. To both Crowley and Aziraphale’s surprise, the place was spotless; it was almost like they had not went missing or left at all.

Another thing they had noticed was that there was a strange feeling in the air; it felt magical in origin but could not place it even if they tried. Whatever it was, the essence seemed to flow through the vary house they stood in; making them feel a bit uneasy. There was also the strange sight of seasonal decorations still up, which gave them the idea that before she was sealed away it was around, guessing by the decorations, autumn.

Iris could tell they were uncomfortable, knowing they probably felt the magic in the house they stood in; she turned to face them and could see how they looked around curiously but, in all they seemed to be unsure of everything.

_“Would you guys like to stay for a while, I can put on some tea?”_

“Oh, no thank you dear, Crowley and I thought we would leave you be for some time; I know you probably want to unwind after everything and get accustom to things without us harboring you.” Aziraphale somewhat stuttered, he could tell Crowley was unsettled a bit by the state of their home being clean and the strange presence in their home.

_"Can I visit you all?"_ she wrote.

Crowley and Aziraphale both looked at one another and then back at her

"Yes, you are always welcome, we would both be thrilled to see you again!" they both said at the same time.

Iris smiled faintly; it was nice to have some who cared about them again.

" _Thank you for dropping me off "_

"Hey, don't worry about it kid."

_"Still, it was nice of you two"_

"Eh, I'm not nice kid!" Crowley stated in a vexed tone; he still did not like it when people referred to him as nice.

Iris rolled her eyes, she knew he was a good person, or demon, even if he said otherwise.

Iris had spent a majority of the day going over the various things in her home to make sure they all were still in their original places, as well as cleaning up her home.

It did not seem like anyone had found her house since she was gone; they could not find it anyways unless she allowed them to find it. Iris knew about wards and how to hide her home from the common human's eye for a long time; she did not like being bothered by door-to-door salesmen or other annoying individuals. 

She lit a fire in the living room fireplace of her home and lit a few candles she had laying around to freshen her home up a bit; most of the candles were fall scented but, she did not mind a bit of maple or clove spice here and there. She miracled all the fall decorations into her attic. Leaving her home slightly absent of the false, leaf garland she had draped along the stairwell and all the other little knick-knacks that came with Halloween and Thanksgiving. She was a bit taken back that when she went missing, it was near the end of September almost October.

She had started to notice little things the more she was cleaning up, the old notes and pictures that had been left out on the table next to a photo album that Iris had gone through nights before she was sealed away. Iris had picked the album up and slid the notes and pictures inside, viewing them ever so slightly to see the warming smiles that she once knew stare back at her. She shook the melancholy feeling that swept through her as she looked down at the pictures; the familiar cold feeling returning in her chest as she looked around her surroundings. There was no one there besides herself; she miracle the album up on the top shelf of one of the bookshelves in her living room.

Picture frames of familiar faces hung on the walls in the main hallway on the first floor of her house; frozen smiles framed in a scene forever. Iris found it a little strange to see herself smiling with her arms wrapped around her significant other; Iris had her hair out of her face with a happy look drawn across her face, which was far different than the haunted look that now stared back at her in the glass reflection of the picture frame. Iris didn’t like the person she saw anymore and snapped a majority of the photos on the wall into the attic in one of the various picture boxes she had up there.

She had also miracled various cloths, that were lying around in the laundry room off to the side of the kitchen, into the upstairs, guest bedroom’s closet. She felt like she was on autopilot as she snapped all the clothing articles of her SO into the closet; even the dresser in Iris’s room that contained all of her SO’s clothing was miracled into the closet as well.

Between miracling things away and into existence, she had stumbled across her hidden storage space she had miracled into existence ages ago. The space was a room under the stairs that was completely hidden from view; the room’s door blended into the wood paneling and wallpapering, which she was the only one that could find that room. 

She opened the door and pulled the string light that hung above her; the light snapped to life with the yellowed light luminating the space. The storage room space had many old crates, steamer chests, and boxes filled the space.

Iris knew that a large majority of the stuff in that room was old cloths, artifacts, photographs, and many other things that Iris had acquired over the years. She recognized many of the crates, including one long, rectangular, black crate that was wrapped in chains and locked tight; there were seals and other paper binds on the wooden crate as well. She frowned at the box and turned the light off in the room and closed the storage room and resealed it.

After an hour or so of tidying up, she eventually mellowed out. Iris was just content to have everything settle back to a sense of normal; even if she didn't feel there fully, she was happy to have some sort of common ground.

She was still missing someone important to her. Even after years of isolation in a void she had come to terms that they were gone, and they were not coming back. They never really got to say goodbye to them, the somber feeling wafted over her as she stood there in her empty house that had been filled with laughter and joy; it was haunting to her to have it so silent, even after hours of being alone.

She wandered into the living room and sat down on the sofa. She snapped her fingers, hearing the record player click on with the last record she had played before she left her house for the last time. Iris closed her eyes and felt her heart twinge when the subtle jazz filled the room, and the subtle voice of Ella Fitzgerald* began to play.

_“_ _Fighting vainly the old ennui_

_And I suddenly turn and see_

_Your fabulous face_

_I get no kick from champagne_

_Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all_

_So, tell me, why should it be true_

_That I get a kick out of you?”_

Iris felt her eyes water slightly as she sat there remembering their SOs face smiling back at them. They used to dance to this song, and Iris would sing the song softly to them as they danced. How she wished she could sing again, how she could hold them again like old times. The ache of their heart crept back at the loving memories again that they wished were not so far away. Their eyes opened and stared out the window, watching the rain pour down outside; cool tears dripped down her reddened cheeks as she sat there in the shadowed living room that appeared blue from the grey skies above. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Vermillion Red: is a very bright shade of red that was made using Cinnabar, which contained high levels of Mercury. Vermillion was used through many centuries in history but, one would be ancient china.
> 
> *Mummy Brown: was a shade of brown that was made from ground up mummy remains. ( to be quiet honest, as awful as that sounds to have a body ground into paint, this is by far not the worst things the Victorians did. The Victorian had mummy unwrapping parties, which meant they unwrapped the bandages of a mummy as a party game, and raided tombs long before the opening of King Tutankhamun in the 1920s. The only reason King Tutankhamun's tomb wasn't raided was because he wasn't popular as other pharaohs and everyone left his tomb alone, that's why it was so well preserved when it was uncovered. )
> 
> The song used was Ella Fitzgerald "I get a kick out of you". The song I felt fit this chapter and I just couldn't resist not adding it.


	6. A Bit of Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a few stars in this chapter, they are mostly musicals and or films, plus a song.

Aziraphale and Crowley were settled in the back room of the bookshop after getting back from dropping Iris off at her house; Crowley was sprawled across the backroom’s sofa with Aziraphale sitting in his armchair with his full attention on the book before him. Everything seemed to settle back into a normal routine for the two of them as they lounged around in one another’s company; Crowley huffed slightly as he sat up to sit normally with his phone in his hand, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“Hey angel, do you remember Iris’s address?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale continued to read for a few minutes before looking up from his book.

“Did you say something dear?”

“Yes angel, I asked you if you remember Iris’s address?” Crowley said with his attention drawn back to his phone.

Aziraphale thought for a moment.

“Yes dear, it was 234-1/2 if I remember correctly… it is kind of an unusual address.”

Crowley nodded; his eyebrows knitted together as he stared at his phone.

“That’s what I thought.” Cowley muttered.

“Is something the matter dear?”

“Her house doesn’t exist.” Crowley said as he turned his phone to show Aziraphale that there were no results for her address. “See angel, there are no results for their address.”

Aziraphale squinted at the small lettering of the phone and looked at Crowley’s wondering gaze. Aziraphale had wondered the same thing about Iris’s home; he didn’t know how the one-half bit could be used in an address when the other homes around her had normal addresses.

“Do you think their house is warded dear. It would make sense, since they didn’t have any letters or papers on their porch or in their doorway. There was also the lack of dust and key to get into the house as well?” Aziraphale pointed out with a questioning tone in his voice. “There house was also far older than the modern houses on either side of them.”

“I think you might be right Angel, but I think their house is probably miracled into existence. We both know that there is something weird with them; so, it didn’t surprise me that their house gives off weird vibes like them.”

“Crowley, you don’t have to be rude about it. Iris may be a little odd but, she seems to be in good spirits!” Aziraphale scoffed slightly at Crowley’s comments. “You would probably be a little odd too if you were incased in a mirror for thirty or so years.”

“I didn’t mean it that way Aziraphale, it was just that there house gave off strange vibes like how the ones they gave off. Its not bad, it was just a bit strange is all. I’m not mocking them or anything angel, I know how it feels to lose track of time and be disconnected with everything once you wake up; its disorientating and is probably far worse for them then it was for me.”

Aziraphale frowned, he knew Crowley understood that feeling far more than he could; the feeling of waking up in a different era than the one you originally started in. His expression softened a bit after thinking about the larger half of the 19th century he had missed out on due to his slumber.

“I know that, oh heavens I know how it was when you woke up around the late 1890s and wondered what in the somebody had happened. Last we spoke to one another before you woke up was after our argument and you went right to sleep on that sour note… wait was that the reason you? Oh, Crowley I’m sorry if that was the reason you went to sleep for nearly a century; I didn’t mean to cause you pain dear if I -

“Angel, its fine, it was in the past and I got over it. There is no reason to apologize on something that happened one hundred to two hundred years ago. I know Heaven was breathing down your neck and plus you were looking out for me since some of my tendencies in the past were a bit… well… um… self-destructive by nature.” Crowley explained pushing up his sunglasses slightly. “Anyhow, besides the past and getting back on track, Iris is a bit of an odd case. I still believe she is from your lot but, I can’t really seem to pin her down at all; I know you seemed to have the same problem with her.”

Aziraphale nodded and sank into his chair slightly. Aziraphale recalled the familiar sense that he had met Iris before somewhere, she seemed rather familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it; perhaps she reminded him of someone he had met in the past or perhaps someone from Heaven.

Crowley stared at Aziraphale, Aziraphale’s eyes gazed off into the distance in deep thought. Crowley had seen him like this a few times, but it was quite rare for him to sit there for a while in that state.

“Angel, what are you thinking about?”

“I was just thinking about something that wasn’t important dear.” Aziraphale said blinking a few times to regain focus on Crowley; Aziraphale’s shoulders went a bit still as though he was in trouble of some kind. A small smile creased across his face in reassurance that the thought wasn’t important.

Crowley sat there with a raised eyebrow; his phone had been placed on the coffee table in front of him with all his focus on Aziraphale.

“It’s important now, so come on angel, spill the tea.”

Aziraphale sighed, his shoulders deflating a bit into a relaxed state.

“Well, how to put this is the question…. “

Crowley frowned.

“Come on angel, you can tell me anything no matter how ridiculous it may sound.”

Aziraphale quickly muttered something in a low tone that Crowley didn’t catch.

“I got none of that angel.”

“I said.” Aziraphale began, taking a deep breath. “That Iris looked familiar to me is all.”

“Wait what, how so?”

“They remind me of someone from either upstairs or from the last three thousand or so years, give or take; it sounds ridiculous,” Aziraphale explained.

“No, it’s not ridiculous angel, not at all, why didn’t you say something before?”

“Well, they didn’t seem to recognize me at all if they were from Heaven, most of the angels upstairs knew who I was for the most part since I was the only angel stationed down in the Earth position when they had me guard the garden all those centuries ago. If they were from Heaven, they would have also been a bit off like how most angels are when they come to Earth. As you had said once, they couldn’t find their way out of a box if the instructions were written on their foreheads, if that is how that colorful saying goes.”

Crowley groaned internally at his attempts to quote phrases of any kind that mortals often said; it often led to much miss-phrasing or Aziraphale would utterly mess the saying up entirely.

“You think they may have spent their time on Earth like us; they probably were stationed in a different place all together?” Crowley asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“This really doesn’t make a lot of sense huh?”

“No dear it really does not.”

“Do you think we can ask someone to read their aura?”

“I don’t know who….ANATHEMA! Oh, for someone’s sake, I haven’t told Anathema about the mirror… Oh Crowley she is going to be livid!” Aziraphale panicked, he almost leapt out of his chair causing Crowley to jump a bit. He began to tug on the hem of his worn vest and rubbed at the fabric to lessen his nerves.

“I don’t think she will, if you want, I can call her and tell her.”

“Would you really do that dear?”

“I will angel, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, thank you dear, I love you.”

“Love you too angel.”

* * *

It had been about a week since Iris was released and was settling back into a sense of normal. She was still precautious about going out and all since she still looked like she walked out of the 80s with most of the cloths she had. She still went out, it was just she was bundled up and had a pad of paper with her and pencil to communicate when out and about; she had bought a cellphone, pair of headphones, and a few new clothing articles to update a bit. Iris, despite her ventures out, she often stayed inside tending to various important things.

At the moment, Iris was standing on top of a stepping stool she had taken out of the boom-closet; her fingers tracing the edges of the various book spins on the bookshelves in the living room. Iris knew that it had to be amongst one of the many books on the shelf, it just had to be. She had already searched the various other shelves on both bookcases near the fireplace and still had not found it yet.

 _“Oh, for fucks-sake, it has got to be up here, I know were I put the damn thing!”_ she thought with a bit of a huff.

She sighed a bit in vexation as she stretched her arm to reach the very top shelf, her fingers tracing along the spines and onto the pages of the books until her fingers danced across what she was looking for: a trap book. She tugged the book down to her level and dusted her fingers lightly across the canvas cover of the false book; she opened the book revealing a small compartment inside with a small, green leather bag. Whatever was inside clanked about and weighed down the worn leather bag around it.

Iris let out a sigh of relief that it was still there after all this time; she opened the bag and reached inside, removing a key ring with various strange looking keys hanging from the ring. Her eyes traced over every key, they all looked somewhat like one another, but some had different teeth, sizes, and designs on the key’s heads.

She looked through the twelve of so keys on the ring, turning them over as she searched for the one key she had been on the hunt for, for nearly an hour tops; her hands eventually came to a halt when she found the key she had been looking for.

They key in question looked like a skeleton key with carved designs along the head of the key; the only peculiar thing about it was that it did not have any teeth at all. The key merely had a rectangular bit of metal where the key was supposed to be pressed to make the key functional. To anyone, the key was useless, but to Iris, the key held more meaning than one would probably know.

It was indeed a skeleton key, but the key was for something important; Iris was just relieved that it was still there. Even if nothing was still in place after all this time, it did not mean that someone didn’t show up to her house and snooped around and took something that was hidden away.

She recalled the last time she had hid something away and someone found it, leading to an awful situation that could have been avoided by saying it earlier; it killed her internally that she could have avoided all of that is she brought up things earlier on. Iris felt a pang in her chest, a cold feeling overcame her as she thought that; perhaps if she didn’t even meet this person or they never became friend’s things would have been different.

A small cry escaped her as she looked at the keys and put them back into the bag; placing the bag back into the trap book and miracleing it back onto the shelf where she had found it. She almost crumpled over with a hand over her mouth to muffle the hurt sobs that escaped her. She moved to the sofa with her mind in a saddening haze; her mind zoning out of her surroundings as she sat there. She blinked slowly and felt her mind fall into a dark, isolated place.

“ _What if we never met, maybe you would still be around huh? Maybe it would be better if I just stayed put and did my job; not trailing around and falling in love and making friends!”_ she thought as he bit back sobs, her hands grasping the fabric of her jeans above her knee. “ _Why do I have to be such a fuck up, huh! It’s your fault their all gone now because you couldn’t tell them!”_

Her nosedive of self-loathing ended when she heard a hard, shark knock on the front door. She dabbed her eyes with her sleeves and sauntered to the door; wondering who it was as she unlocked the front door and found Aziraphale and Crowley on her front porch. They both stared at her with a confused look on their faces. Iris could probably see why they gave her a strange look; she looked a bit rough.

Iris was dressed in a pair of worn, men’s jeans with a baggy, black band shirt tucked into her jeans; a long sleeved, grey shirt was worn under the band-t. A pair of fingerless gloves covered her hands, the black gloves were a bit ratty with the once green stripes being faded to a strange sage color. A deep green flannel shirt was tied loosely around her waist. A pair of burgundy socks covered her feet with a few patches sewn around the toes of the socks. Her hair still hung in her face but, her hair was a lot cleaner than it had been the bandages were removed around her throat but, the collar of her grey undershirt hid the deep pinkish-purple scar. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, hiding her frame a bit under the baggy clothes.

“Hello dear, how are you doing?” Aziraphale asked, trying to break the awkward silence between them.

Iris gave a thumbs up and shrugged a bit.

“That’s good, see the scar had healed.” Crowley pointed out eyeing her up and down a bit. “I don’t know about the look though…. Grunge right?”

Iris nodded and tugged at the collar of the grey undershirt a bit to hide the slightly jagged edge of the scar on her neck.

“What is grunge?” Aziraphale asked.

Iris motioned to their attire and stuck their hands into their jeans pockets with their thumbs sticking out of their pockets. Crowley sighed slightly.

“Its kind of a music genera but, everyone dresses like that angel. When I went to America in the 90s, this was a popular look amongst a few bands and defined the era a bit.” Crowley explained. “It was one of my least favorite ages but, it had interesting music just, fashion was strange. Speaking of strange fashion, I thought you were in the mirror in the 80s so how do you know about grunge fashion and all that?”

Iris whipped her phone out of her pocket and began typing. Crowley stared at the cellphone in her hand, it was a bit older than his own but not a flip phone like Aziraphale’s. It had a few band stickers stuck to the black, heavy duty case.

“I was aware of things in the mirror; also, since I got a phone with internet attached to it, I can look over different tends and music I had heard while away.” The phone said in a monotone voice. “Also, it’s easier to talk instead of writing.”

“Oh, so you just like the style then dear,” Aziraphale said in a tone that sounded more like a question.

Iris nodded and began to type.

“What are you two doing here anyhow?”

Aziraphale and Crowley both looked at one another a bit nervously. Aziraphale began to fiddle with the hem of his waist coat and tugged it down slightly.

“We wanted to see how you were doing, is all kid and tempting you out for lunch with us?” Crowley said pushing up his sunglasses.

Iris raised an eyebrow for a moment and looked off for a moment. Something didn’t seem right, they seemed a little to nervous around her; it wasn’t hard to pick up on twitches people did in certain situations, especially Aziraphale’s twitches.

“Where are you guys going and, also I know there is something else going on as well.”

They both stared at her wide eyed, how did she know something was up, was it that obvious. They were meaning to ask her some things since they phone Anathema a few days ago.

Crowley and Aziraphale had phoned Anathema about the mirror. Anathema was not upset about the whole ordeal like Aziraphale had thought, which was a big relief for him. Crowley did most of the talking since Aziraphale was an anxious mess and could barely get two words out without stuttering apologizes left and right.

Crowley had explained to Anathema that there was someone bound to the mirror, a woman in her teens and she was probably the reason her and Newt were drained and had nightmares like Aziraphale and him experienced. Anathema was deeply perturbed by the details about Iris and how they believed she was an angel but, they were at a bit of a loss when it came to the angel thing due to the lack of evidence with her soul as a whole. Crowley did explain the best he could about the sigil that was attached to the mirror that bound Iris to it; Aziraphale tried to help explain the best he could when Crowley was at a loss of words but, he was still anxious talking to her.

In all, Anathema didn’t really know how to take in the sheer information Crowley and Aziraphale gave her; she didn’t know how or why they couldn’t figure out Iris’s aura if she couldn’t. Anathema also found it strange that she was bound to the mirror with heaven binds like they did, but it still was strange that her aura was off and there was no real way to figure out the issue with the seal. Anathema hypothesized that they may be sealed away accident, they may have been attacked and something, perhaps blood, caused them to be sealed away; it seemed strange that someone would deliberately seal them away like that when they were injured. Aziraphale and Crowley felt the same but, still had a grudge there may be something else under the surface that that are not seeing.

Anathema offered to see if she could read Iris’s aura and perhaps talk to her a bit, which they agreed. This arrangement brought them back to the present, standing before Iris’s front door trying to bring her out for lunch at the local sushi place so her and Anathema can meet officially.

Iris stood there waiting for their response.

“Well dear, we had a conversation with Anathema about the mirror and she wanted to meet us up for a spot of lunch. She knows about you and wants to meet you officially, in the flesh as one would say.” Aziraphale explained with an uneasiness to his voice.

Crowley noticed and decided to step in.

“What do you say kid, do you want to tag along?”

Iris shrugged and turned to the coat rack next to the door and tugged down a rather ratty, patch and pin covered jean jacket. Spikes covered the shoulders of the slightly worn jacket, it was covered in various band patches, hand made patches, band pins, safety pins, and various vinyl pins with varying phrases and profanity.

Crowley internally chuckled at some of the profane pins and at Aziraphale’s varying confused and appalled expressions that crossed his face; he could see his cheeks turn to a bit of pink and his eyes widen as he read some of them with a look that could be described as embarrassment. Crowley smiled at his angels varying decorations on their coat.

Iris kicked on a pair of olive-green converse shoes that were worn in the fronts and sides. Doodles in sharpie marker and designs in worn out acrylic paint decorated their shoes. They were eventually done getting ready and closed the door behind them as they followed Crowley and Aziraphale out to the Bentley. She climbed into the back seat and watched as Crowley opened the door for Aziraphale and ushered him inside and closed the passenger door before circling the car sinking into the driver’s seat.

The car kicked to life with the radio remaining silent for the ride, Crowley looked nervous, his fingers drumming along the stirring wheel with Aziraphale looking through the glove box at various CDs. The sight of a familiar album cover caught her attention; she leaned forwards and tapped Aziraphale on the shoulder, which caused him to jump a bit and turn his head to face her.

“Oh, you scare me dear, what do you need dear?” he asked, slightly chuckling at the sudden spook she gave him.

Iris pointed at one of the various albums and pulled her phone out and began typing.

“What are you trying to say dear-

“I know that album.” The phone said.

Crowley raised an eyebrow with interest and glanced over to see a few of the albums resting on his angel’s lap.

“You like _Queen_ kid?” Crowley asked.

Iris’s mouth formed into a thin line as she typed.

“Yes, Queen is a cool band but, I was meaning _Velvet Underground_.”

Crowley punched the brakes on the car after hearing that come out of the phone; Aziraphale and Iris shot forward a bit with the color draining from their faces at how violently he slammed on the brakes.

“You like _Velvet Underground_?!” Crowley said jerking around in his seat to face Iris, who was like a puddle on the back seat with a hand over their chest trying to calm down their thundering heartbeat.

“Yes, I know a few of their songs, they are a pretty good band.”

Crowley stared in disbelief at them for a moment before turning his attention back to the road and the honking horns around him. Aziraphale stared at Crowley a sheepish look of glee on his face but, it faltered when he saw how agitated Aziraphale out of the corner of his eye. Crowley started to drive again but at a slower pace than he was going before.

“Can you for the love of someone tell us when you’re going to slam the breaks like that!” Aziraphale said in a shrill tone; his hand gripping the leather handle above the door.

Crowley turned to face Aziraphale.

“Sorry angel, just was thought I misheard them was all.”

Aziraphale huffed slightly.

“All this over a band,” Aziraphale exhaled and put all the CDs back into the glove box.

Crowley frowned.

“Sorry angel, it’s just I don’t see to many people that know who that group is anymore. I may have gotten a bit too excited is all. I didn’t mean to slam the breaks like that.”

Aziraphale sighed, he shook his head and found he could not be mad at him any longer, not even with his reckless behavior when it came to driving. He knew what it was like when someone knew something that you thought was long since forgotten.

“I know the name, you’ve talked about them before, aren’t they a bebop group?”

Iris and Crowley both stared at him with a confused look on their faces. The sounds of the 80s dialup internet sound playing in their skulls as they sat there trying to comprehend what they had just heard.

“They’re not that at all angel, you told me this before and I told you that no one in the entire world would say bebop as an answer.” Crowley chuckled.

“Bebop is jazz, _Velvet Underground_ is in the punk genera, if I’m recalling correctly?” the phone said as Iris sat their dumbfounded.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed as he sat there listening to the phone with Crowley nodding in agreement that it was in fact a punk band.

“What is this punk anyhow?”

“Punk was big in the 70s angel and, is kind of around still to this day; there are a lot of bands that are still popular, but very few talks about certain groups, and one of them is _Velvet Underground_.” Crowley explained.

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he was speaking a foreign language; he did not know what to say. He had never heard of punk before and did not even know what it was; Crowley never played the album in his car, he often played various _Queen_ albums in his car. Aziraphale assumed Crowley never played the album due to various reasons, and one of those reasons would be the vastly different tastes in music they both had.

“Does your car have a cassette player?” the monotone voice of the phone said, cutting off Aziraphale’s of his train of thought.

Crowley frowned as he gazed up in the rearview mirror to see Iris holding a rather battered cassette tape case in her hand that she had just pulled out from her inside pocket.

“Well, I don-

Crowley was cut off by the sudden wave a miracle, and now there was a cassette player under his CD player and radio of his car. He slowly turned to see Aziraphale smiling lightly at the small miracle he had performed on his car.

“Well, I have one now,” he groaned and turned his attention to the road and not on Aziraphale smile.

He knew Aziraphale meant no harm and all but, it still was a bit of an annoyance.

“Can I have the tape dear to put it in?” Aziraphale asked, which Iris handed him the tape.

Aziraphale eyed the tape for a moment, it was rather battered up with case having webbed cracks along its scuffed-up surface. A track listing paper and label were inside but, there was no writing on it, which seemed a little off to Aziraphale, but he shrugged it off. He opened the case and black tape out and read the yellowed label on the tape: Old Songs. He stuck the tape into the player on the A-side, seeing that the tape was rewound to the beginning; he pressed play, which there was a bit of static that filled the speakers before it began.

The first song on the tape was one that surprised Crowley a bit, he assumed that Iris’s taste in music would have been filled with metal music; however, he was quite wrong. David Bowie “ _Fame” *_ blasted through the speakers, bringing Crowley back to the 70s when funk and various other music genera’s where big; honestly, Crowley was just soaking up the fact that he had not listened to David Bowie’s music in a very long time.

Aziraphale on the other hand took a bit longer to adjust to the different change in music than what he was used to. He had heard various songs over the thousand or so years, but this was something that he was not used to listening to. He could see Crowley taping his fingers to the beat of the song as he drove through London at incredible speeds now, not even being cautious when it came to the speed any longer.

* * *

Eventually they came to the small hole in the wall sushi joint and got out of the car and headed inside. Crowley held Aziraphale hand and leaned in and planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s causing him to blush a dusted rose color.

They saw Anathema and headed over to the large corner booth and headed over to her and took a seat. Iris was sitting. Anathema sat on the other end of booth with space for the two love birds, Crowley and Aziraphale sat right next to each other in the booth without a gap in between them.

Anathema stared at Iris with wide eyes, to Anathema, she looked haunted beyond belief. The dim lighting of the restaurant did nothing to hide the fact that she was a skeleton; Iris’s dark hair hiding her face, there was a small spot in the bangs that fell over her eyes where she could see the dark gaze of the girl before her.

“So, book girl, this is Iris; Iris this is Anathema.”

Iris nodded. Anathema tried to give a friendly smile but, it came of as an uneasy, twitchy smile.

“Nice to meet you Iris, I have heard a bit about you.”

She nodded slightly and began to tug up the collar of her grey undershirt; her hands seemed to twitch a bit nervously. She picked up her phone and began to type on her phone.

“Why did you want to talk with me?” the phone said.

“Well, I wanted to ask you about you personally, get to talk to you a bit more and understand something’s is all.” Anathema explained. “Do you want to talk about it, it is entirely up to you?”

Iris sat ramrod and felt Anathema’s eyes staring into her, Iris gazed over to Crowley and Aziraphale to see if they would do anything, but they didn’t; they merely sat there with the menu hiding them from view. Iris had small suspicion this may have occurred during this lunch invitation; they probably wanted her to talk to Anathema without them intruding on the conversation, but there was something slightly off and Iris was picking up off of Anathema.

Iris’s eyes fogged over as she looked onto a different plane, seeing Anathema’s soul was slightly off: witch. She was a witch, she could read auras if she was a witch; Iris knew this for a fact, she had bumped into several witches and each one of them had pointed something off with her soul. Even if her aura was masked, there could be signs that something was off or at least angelic by nature. Iris brought herself back to focus and bit the inside of her cheek, just waiting for the opportunity to leave; Anathema could not possibly read anything on her, at least she hoped.

* * *

“There is something off about her.” Anathema said after Iris had excused herself to go to the restroom.

Crowley and Aziraphale agreed.

“Can you read anything about her dear?” Aziraphale asked and took a long sip from his drink; they had already finished their lunch at this point and were waiting for Iris to return so they could leave.

Anathema shook her head.

“No not really, there is something off though, her aura seems to be, how do I put this, diluted somehow; it’s almost like its being masked or it is just rather thin in essence so I can’t read it properly.” Anathema explained, adjusting her glasses as she did so.

Crowley frowned slightly.

“Is there anything you picked up that was non-human at least, we think she might not be exactly human?” Aziraphale asked, a small sigh escaping him.

Anathema thought for a moment.

“Well, your right about the non-human part at least; I noticed her aura sort of matched yours Mr. Fell in some ways, and what you said about the sigil makes sense.”

“What exactly is that supposed to prove?” Crowley graveled.

She frowned.

“It means you may have released or at least befriends an exiled, injured angel. I thought originally, she was human but the small things I picked up on suggested otherwise. I have no idea why she was in the mirror but, like you, I am in the dark on that. I assume they were placed in there for some reason or another; however, the reason is unclear to me, she seems like a really kind person but, they seem haunted by whatever has happened to them is all.”

Aziraphale and Crowley stared at one another for a moment, they concluded they were probably an angel but, they had not thought about them being exiled.

“You think they may be fallen?” Crowley asked in a small tone.

“I don’t think that at all, I just think they may have been sent away till further notice is all?” Anathema explained in a reassuring tone.

Iris returned back to the table with her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. Everyone at the table fell silent the moment she returned. Iris shrugged it off and waited at the side for everyone to scoot out of the booth and exit the restaurant; bidding farewell to Anathema as she called Newt to come and pick her up. Aziraphale, Crowley, and Iris piled into the Bentley and drove back to the bookshop; the cassette tape was removed from the cassette player in the car and was handed back to Iris.

* * *

Upon arriving to the bookshop, Crowley went to the back room and lounged on the sofa with his phone in hand, while Aziraphale made coco for himself and Iris. Iris walked the backroom, observing the many stacks of books and gramophone in the corner with various records in a box sitting next to the player.

Iris delicately looked through the records in the box and stumbled across one at the vary bottom: _The Sound of Music*_. Iris raised an eyebrow at the record sitting at the bottom of the box of records and shifted it out of the stack to better see the record. There was a thing of sheet music pressed into the inside of the record; almost like it was hidden away.

Aziraphale entered the room with two cups of coco in his hands to see Iris sitting on the floor holding the album delicately in her hands; she turned to look up at him as he placed a cup on the table for her and kept eye contact at the record. Crowley looked up from his phone and laughed.

“Hey angel look she found your favorite musical.” Crowley chuckled sarcastically, causing Aziraphale to pout slightly.

“I’ll have you know it’s not my favorite.” Aziraphale said with a groan as looked at the album. “I have no idea why I even kept it?”

“Me neither angel?”

Iris raised an eyebrow and began typing something on her phone.

“You don’t like _The Sound of Mucus*_?”

Aziraphale chuckled, while Crowley laughed heartedly, they had never heard that term to describe that musical before.

“I take it is not one of your favorite musicals huh?” Crowley chuckled.

Iris shook her head.

“No not really, watched it once and it was okay; not one of my top picks for musicals or old music films and productions.”

“Oh, that’s interesting to hear, I thought some people enjoyed that film?” Aziraphale said a bit surprised.

Crowley nodded, he knew his angels dislike for that musical and film since it came out and heaven played it on repeat; it wasn’t a good musical in Crowley’s eyes but, it was one that Aziraphale loathed with a passion. Any mention of it brought him into a slightly vexed mood and he groaned at the fact of having sat through the movie on multiple occasions due to heavens constant affiliation with it.

“Well, I guess I’m not one of them. I know the music but, doesn’t mean I like it.” The phone replied as Iris smiled lightly.  
“What even is your favorite musical or musical film if I may ask?” Aziraphale asked.

Iris thought for a moment before typing.

“That’s a tough one, I like a lot of musical films and films in general. I think the two I would probably choose would be _The Wizard of Oz*_ and _Singing in the Rain*_.”

Crowley and Aziraphale stared at her for a moment. They were completely different than what they thought Iris would have chosen.

“You like those musicals and films kid; it seems a little old for your tastes?” Crowley asked.

“Crowley, that is not very nice to say!”

“Don’t worry about it, its okay.” The phone said. “I like those films but, I do like other ones like _Pink Floyd’s The Wall_ * if that helps any?”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at her confused.

“What is _The Wall_?” Aziraphale asked.

“I have no idea what that even is?” Crowley shrugged.

“It’s a long story, I’ll have to find the film and show it to you both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *"Sound of Music": "the sound of mucus" saying is one that was used by the actor that played the father in The Sound of Music, actor Christopher Plummer.   
> * "The Wizard of Oz": everyone, for the most part knows this film; but just wanted to star it is all. "The Wizard of Oz" is famous of its cast, including Judy Garland and many others. (Fun Fact: "The Wizard of Oz" a children's book written in the 1900s by L. Frank Baum and has many other incarnations and books that branch off of the main story.)   
> * Singing in the Rain: "Singing in the Rain" is a famous film and musical staring Debbie Reynolds, Gene Kelly, Donald O'Conner and many other famous actors and actresses.   
> * "Pink Floyd's The Wall": a film based off the album of the same name, it is a pretty cool film with many of the scenes from the film being animated by the same animator that animated Disney's "Hercules". Primarily, the well known song on the album is "Another Brick in the Wall" ( just wanted to add a song incase people have no idea what I'm talking about :)
> 
> * "Fame" by David Bowie: I just like the song and wanted to add it in.


	7. Tensions Boil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is use of drugs and booze in this chapter, so warning there.

Iris eventually found herself hanging out at the bookshop more often than she had expected; she enjoyed having the company and reading various tomes that Aziraphale had collected over the thousands or years he had walked the Earth. Her hands delicately tracing over the spines of the books with gloved hands to ensure that oils did not tarnish the ancient books any further.

Aziraphale was a little apprehensive to let her read his collection, but he saw she seemed to understand the delicate nature of the books; she pulled on a pair of white gloves, with her fingerless gloves overtop them, before he even said anything about the books, and he seemed to be at ease after that. She was so quiet with each step she took and each page she read in the bookshop that half the time he forgot she was there until he saw her sitting in one of the various chairs or in the old, cushioned window seat upstairs in the bookshop.

Aziraphale found her interest in old literature interesting, as well as her liking to older music; especially many of the records he had collected over time. He also found it warming that she respected older things and took care when handling things that were older and fragile in nature. Iris, even if she did not talk much, listened to the various stories Aziraphale told and asked questions when she saw fit; many of there conversations were small but, they were interesting none the less.

Crowley had also taken a liking to her as well. He liked that she was kind to his angel and him as well, even if he shot her an occasional groan for calling him “nice”. He liked that she was somewhat with the times, unlike Aziraphale (Crowley loved him dearly, it was just that he was so behind when it came to modern things). Crowley had also found it interesting that she was forever listening to various bands and music groups from the past and modern era and adding them to a playlist on her phone; she would talk through writing on paper when talking to him while occupied on her phone since the translating app did not work unless you went back and forth between two apps constantly.

Iris and Crowley would talk about new groups and of music, which Crowley found himself taking a liking to some of her tastes and vis versa. Crowley showed her a few songs from a large soul collection that he had acquired over time, which she found it interesting when he would go in-depth about music that he was passionate about. Iris was passionate about music but, it was hard to talk about all the genres at once when she had to use a phone, so opted to say only a few to save time.

In all Crowley and Aziraphale had seen a change, she was a lot less timid around them than she was before; a bit shy but not to the point she was when they left the sushi shop after seeing Anathema. Iris seemed to like hanging out with them, and they did not mind her one bit; however, they still found a few things off.

They concluded that she must have been some sort of non-human entity but, did not want to say anything; so, they just excepted it as it was. But the one thing that was off was that if she were non-human or an angel, she would have been able to do miracles, but she still had not done anything like that; if she had performed a miracle already, they could not sense it even if they were not around her.

They had also noticed that she did not eat; she did not eat lunch either when Crowley or Aziraphale invited her out to lunch. She would turn down the invite and opted to stay at the bookshop or would leave for the day entirely and head back home; often resulting in her staying away for prolonged periods of time and returning.

They had taken notice to that the only time she ever ate anything around them was at the sushi shop when they went to see Anathema, and that was about it. They didn’t seem to notice her face hollowing anymore than it already was or her limbs thinning to a skeletal appearance; so, they assumed that she was eating but, probably didn’t like eating out with them for some odd reason they could not figure out.

Her hair stayed long and unkept, often having been dyed black with varying-colored lipsticks being a new staple to her look. Her hair color would return to its normal color of brown after a few days, indicating it was wash out dye; however, it still hung in her face. Crowley had offered her a hair tie to pull her hair back at one point and she shook her head; she yelped when he held it out to her, and she booked it out of the store and did not return for a few days. Crowley had assumed that there was something wrong with her face, almost like she was using her hair as a sort of mask; however, he really did not know.

In all, those were some of the strange things they had noticed about her behavior; they did not think the fingerless gloves, or the excessive amounts of baggy clothing was unusual. They just thought it was for style purposes or just because they were cold and liked to layer up. More times than not, they shrugged off the strange clothing they wore and went about their day as they had before, but with an extra companion.

* * *

Despite Aziraphale and Crowley’s thoughts on her, Iris knew exactly what she was up to; she did not want to eat out at all and was afraid of what could happen if she is recognized in public by anyone she knew from before. Her hair may hide her appearance as well as her aura being masked, but that did not hide everything, and she knew that. She did not want to be found out, she was not going to be careless this time around and cause anymore deaths due to her being in their presence.

She did venture out before the sushi place, but that was on her own without anyone in her company, and even then, she was careful to make sure she was not sought out by anyone she knew; checking the whole store on a spiritual level in a different area of the store to ensure no one was inside that was either demon or angel. She would merely grab the small things she intended to buy and would miracle herself a few blocks away from her home in an alleyway out of the sight of people and would walk home from there. She was trying to be as careful as she could, and that carefulness seemed to draw worry and puzzlement from Crowley and Aziraphale.

She loved the company with the both of them; however, she had noticed how they seemed to stare at her sometimes, almost like they had pitied her in some way, shape or form. She knew they were like her but, she never revealed anything that would induce that type of suspicion by avoiding miracles around them. She wanted to be as normal as possible without suspicion; however, she knew the more she avoided things, the more suspicious they got of her. Leading to the tension building up inside on whether to stop coming to the bookshop or not.

* * *

“Hey Iris” Crowley called from his spot in the back room, he had not seen them in a while and Aziraphale and him were going out for lunch.

Aziraphale had already fetched his coat to brace the cold weather outside as Crowley had tossed on a light jacket himself.

Iris popped her head out from behind a bookshelf and stepped out into view with a cautious essence about them.

“Where heading out to get a spot of lunch and wanted to ask if you wanted to go?” Crowley asked as he looked back to see Aziraphale was busy buttoning his coat and putting gloves on his hands.

Iris shook her head with her eyes gazing to the floor. He knew that look anywhere; it was the look he had seen every time she declined a lunch invite. The look of either guilt to saying no or something else that Crowley could not tell due to her hair hiding half her face from view.

 _“I don’t want to go out, what if ‘they’ are still out there, what if they see me and they get in trouble; I don’t want them hurt. It was already bad enough they invited me out for sushi that one time and I barely had anything there. I don’t want them dead; I don’t want them to take me away again and seal me away somewhere else_.” Her mind raced as her shoulders hunched inwards as she stood there before the door.

Crowley raised an eyebrow and then felt his eyes narrow behind his sunglasses.

“Why not?” Crowley asked. “You have done this a few times now and I just want to understand is all?”

Iris seemed to wince at that.

 _“Only if you can tell them the truth of why you cannot go out, maybe its better if you just left or just vanished huh. Go somewhere they would not look for you? Perhaps go back home and just stay inside till another apocalypse sets in?”_ she thought.

“Crowley, if she doesn’t want to go to lunch with us then it is her choice.” Aziraphale introjected.

“No angel, this has happened multiple times now and I just want to know why, is all?” Crowley explained in a slightly harsh tone.

Iris just stood there frozen.

“Dear, you’re scaring her, just leave it be.”

Crowley let out a long exhale.

“Now kid, why is it you decline lunch offers?”

“I just don’t want to go is all.” The phone said. _“It wasn’t a lie”_

“Bullshit, and you know it; I can tell there is something bothering you and you don’t want to tell us?”

Iris crept slowly back into the door and bolted it down hallway, passed the backroom kitchen and into a small bathroom at the end of the hall facing the back of the bookshop. She closed the door quickly and locked it as she saw Crowley follow her down there and started to knock on the door.

“Kid, open the door please.”

Aziraphale came down the hall with a vexed look on his face.

“Crowley what in the blazes has gotten into you, you’re scared the poor girl half to death because you keep pestering them with this talk of avoiding lunch invites!”

Crowley turned to see the annoyed look plastered on Aziraphale’s face and how it seeped into his tone of voice. Crowley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, causing his sunglasses to shift.

“Kid I’m sorry okay, I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything okay; can you knock or something, so I know your listening?”

There was no knock.

“Dear, can you please knock or come out; we won’t pester you on the question anymore in the future if it arises.”

“He’s right, I won’t bring it again unless you want to talk about it?”

Again, there was no answer.

Crowley and Aziraphale went to lunch and had a rather silent meal with a bit of tension between them; Aziraphale was fairly irritated about how Crowley had reached and freaked Iris out, he was just hoping that Iris would be forgiving when they got back. Crowley felt the same way, he knew how he acted was wrong, hell he could see the look on her face as he pushed the stupid subject further.

Upon returning to the bookshop, the bathroom door was still closed.

Crowley went up to the door and knocked softly.

“Kid you still in there, we’re back and I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a dumbass and pushing things; can you please come out?” Crowley asked.

There was no reply; it had been about an hour and a half and they were still in the bathroom; this was strange since they thought that she would have come out and been sitting somewhere reading or listening to music on their phone. Crowley had begun to fear that something had happened after he brought that up; they may have done something terrible to themselves.

Crowley was afraid now at what lied behind that door, he hoped they had not resulted to anything rash and harmed themselves; they already seemed a bit off due to the mirror and the accident before hand but, this would have been by their own hands and Crowley was to blame if they did the unthinkable.

Aziraphale popped his head around the corner to see Crowley standing in front of the door.

“She hasn’t come out yet?”

“No, and I’m staring to fear the worst.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley with a worried look.

“What do you mean dear, by that?”

“I think they may have hurt themselves; I’m just hoping they didn’t do that.”

Aziraphale bustled down the hall and snapped his fingers to miracle the door open, which Crowley pushed it open. They stared into the ever-growing gap of the door with a sense of dread filling them; the door finally opened to reveal the bathroom was empty and the window was open all the way. They had escaped through the window, leaving them a bit relieved that they were not bloodied on the floor but, now worried about where she went.

* * *

The first place they had decided to look for her was her home; they Bentley sped through London till they reached her house; none of them had her phone number, so calling or texting her was out of the question. Crowley threw open his door with Aziraphale following behind as soon as the Bentley was parked in front of her old home. Concerned expressions were drawn across their faces as they headed up the steps of her front porch. Crowley let out a sharp breath and knocked on the front door; being completely oblivious to the doorbell till Aziraphale reached around him and pressed the button next to the door.

They both stood there with bated breath, wondering if she even was there to begin with. They could just miracle the door open but, they knew that the house was probably magical; the last thing they needed to do was miracle the door open and being blasted backwards of the porch if they had the place warded. They had assumed she was an angel, or some sort of human hybrid but, they were not entirely sure still.

After ten or so minutes, however to them it felt like an eternity, they heard something inside move. They could not see through the front bay windows since the curtain were drawn shut; leaving them to fear the worst. Crowley paced for a few minutes with Aziraphale ringing his hands together nervously as they heard things clinking together and the sound of music blasting through the house.

Crowley rang the doorbell again and heard the music lower, but not by much; Aziraphale and Crowley both wondered why the neighbors or if anyone could hear their loud music, but no one seemed to notice or bother to check on what was causing the racket. Even if their home did not exist on any map, it was still rather rude to blast music this loud.

The door eventually clicked and opened slightly, allowing them to enter the humble abode before them. The smell of cigarettes hovered in a thick fog in the foyer as soon as they stepped foot through the front door; swirling smoke hovered in the air and seemed to vent out of the half-closed doors of the front room.

Crowley pushed opened the doors to the front room to see Iris sitting on the floor with their back pressed against the front of the sofa; an ash tray filled with cigarettes sat next to them as well as a large bottle of vodka that was half full. There was an undertone of something funny smelling in the air that Crowley intuitively knew; it was a smell that he had remembered from various clubs and places he had been to in the 60s and 70s: pot.

Aziraphale’s face scrunched slightly at the smell of skunk that wafted out of the room as soon as he stood in the doorway besides Crowley.

One of the first things they had noticed was she was dressed differently; rather she was dressed in a long wool, tartan skirt, and blouse. She was not wearing shoes, but her feet were covered in dirt, almost like she had been out somewhere walking barefoot. The eye makeup she had worn, which had been covered up by her hair, had run down her face, leaving black, charcoal like streaks down her cheeks.

There were a few lamps on in the dim room, but the most predominant light of the room was a small fire that was cracking softly in the fireplace. The record player in room had various album sleeves resting next to it with a few albums for bands they had never heard of before.

Iris looked up at them with a tired look drawn on their face, a cigarette hanging loosely from their lips as they sat there with one knew brought up to their chest. They pulled out their phone and began to type slowly.

“Hi.”

“Hello dear, we were concerned about you since you were locked in the bathroom for a while and then we found out you weren’t there, so we came to check on you.” Aziraphale explained.

“Oh, that’s nice, but I’m fine and you can leave now.” 

Crowley’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses; they clearly were not okay at all.

“That’s a lie kid and I know it; I’m sorry if I push the whole lunch thing on you today okay but, whatever this is,” he said motioning to them. “Is not okay, smoking and drinking your problems away won’t fix it.”

“Oh, I wish it would.” The phone said with a small, saddened chuckle escaping Iris’s lips.

Aziraphale and Crowley both stared at each other in shock and concern before they drew their attention back to her.

“What do you mean by that dear?” Aziraphale asked with a caution in his voice; he had no idea what they had meant by that and felt he was treading on thin ice asking the question.

Iris sighed.

“I mean I wish that it would all just go away is all,” the phone said. “Nothing to worry about though.”

She turned her head to face away from them and rose to her feet and turned off the record player playing vintage love songs from the 50s and 60s.

“What do you wish would go away exactly?” Crowley asked.

She turned on her heels to face them, her head hung low and her shoulders hunched. She ignored the question and walked through the doorway Crowley into the kitchen and sank into chair at the dinner table. She took in a deep drag on her cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the air above her.

Aziraphale glanced up at Crowley and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I think she just wants to be left alone for a while, but I can’t bear to part when she is in this disheveled state Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered with worried eyes staring into Crowley’s shades.

Crowley sighed and took Aziraphale’s hand and headed into the kitchen. Crowley took a seat at the table and Aziraphale began to miracle a tea kettle and various boxes of tea onto the stove and counter; the fire on the stove was lit, which Aziraphale did not miracle the water to a proper boil and decided to take time to brew it properly and see what he and Crowley could do to comfort Iris.

Crowley frowned at the state of Iris, her legs were drawn up to her chest in the chair with her head resting against her knees. He took off his sunglasses and set them aside, they did not seem to care before when he had his glasses removed, revealing the worried eyes and lines on his face. Aziraphale had the same expression on his face, which they sat across from each other with Iris in the chair at the end of the table.

“Kid, what do you mean by that?” Crowley asked. “What do you mean by wish something was gone?”

Iris lifted her head with their tilted towards the floor; their eyes probably avoiding Crowley’s and Aziraphale’s gazes. Her hands began to type something out quickly on the phone.

“Pain, I want the pain to go away; I don’t even know why you even care?”

Crowley and Aziraphale’s eyes widened at those words, what type of pain were they meaning? Were they meaning their throat and how they could not talk or was it something else that they were not thinking about?

“We absolutely care dear, if this is about today or your throat troubling you, we can-

Iris held up her hand to stop Aziraphale.

“Its not you two, its not about today or any of that its just why in the world you even care after everything that has happened. I thought you all would just ding-dong ditch me and that would be the end of it and would go on living your lives without me mucking things up; I know you probably pity me because of my predicament and that’s why you keep me around or even allow me to hang out and all.”

“Whoa, kid! Where would you get an idea like that?” Crowley interjected.

“Probably by the way you all look at me like I’m a broken thing sometimes; as well as how you all were strange around me in the beginning for some time?”

“Dear, we never pitied you at all, we were just concerned about you since you seemed to not have anyone; we know exactly how it is to not have people in our lives we befriended over the thousands of years.” Aziraphale said. “We both can agree you are a rather interesting person despite your dilemma Iris; Crowley finds it interesting about your music tastes and I find it interesting to talk with you about books and various other topics.”

“He’s right Kid, you’re an interesting individual and angel said you were always welcome at the bookshop if you needed anything; honestly, we sought you out because we wanted to check up on you to see if you were okay and all.”

Iris frowned a bit.

“That’s rather nice and all, I know I asked to visit and all but, I never assumed I was welcome all the time.” The phone said. Iris felt a wave of something pass through her, the memory of the hospital room in the back of her mind and the cruel words of someone echoing in her head. “If you know what’s right though, I think it is better you forget about me thought.”

“Why would we ever do that Iris?” Aziraphale asked as he rose from the chair to tend to the tea kettle and made tea for all three of them.

The mug clunked in front of Iris, which she just stared at it as she thought.

“You don’t seem to dangerous kid, if anything you seem like a nice person?” Crowley asked as he took a sip of his tea.

Iris clenched her jaw as tears threatened to spill down her face again; she had hurt people; hell, the love of her life was dead because of her.

 _“Maybe if you just died then you could be with them instead of being exiled into a mirror?”_ a voice in the back of her head said. _“Maybe if you just went where you just came from you could just live peacefully without them looking for you?”_

Tears streaked down her cheeks as she typed; causing Crowley and Aziraphale to stare at her with a helpless, sorrowful look drawn on their faces.

“I may be a nice person, but that doesn’t help the fact that I have been the reason for people’s deaths.”

Crowley and Aziraphale stared at her, the words ringing in the silence that followed in the room; was that true, it did not seem true? How could they be dangerous when they were a teenage girl, it seemed unreal to think she was any real danger at all. Yes, she did cause them problems when in the mirror but for the most part they had been soft spoken and kindhearted in many regards to them. Both of their mouths were slightly ajar, and it took a few moments to swallow the words they had had come out of the phone.

“You-you were responsible for people’s deaths?” Crowley stuttered out.

Iris nodded.

“It wasn’t intentional, but me just being around people when I was out and about led to one person’s death and the rest of my friends forgetting about my existence. I hope to god that it doesn’t happen with you two or anyone else I befriend again after the last time.”

“And the last time was the mirror?” Aziraphale asked.

“Yes, or at least before I was sealed away in the mirror, I guess making friends was a crime?”

“Making friends in never a crime, come on look at angel and I; we both worked for Heaven and Hell, as you know, and we were supposed to be enemies and all but, we became friends and eventually fell in love. Some of us taking longer than others.” Crowley motioned to Aziraphale with a smirk, which Aziraphale scoffed jokingly and nudged him in the arm with a loving sparkle in his eyes.

“He is right you know. We were supposed to be enemies and I kept shoving out friendship aside to make sure out head offices did not find out; despite how many times I said we were not friend’s I could not imagine Crowley not being in my life. To be honest, he is the nicest person and friend that I have had for an awfully long time now, not counting many of the mortal friends I have made that are either living and or diseased.”

“I’m not nice angel, I am a demon and I’m not supposed to be nice.” Crowley grumbled.

“Whatever you say dear; however back to you Iris, it is okay to make friends and all. In a sense I believe you see us as friends and that is why you ‘hang out with us’ as you put it; I have no idea what had happened to you before the present time dear but, you are a friend in my eyes, and I believe Crowley sees as a friend as well.” Aziraphale explained in a comforting tone.

“Whatever pain you feel at this time kid, we can assure to you it won’t happen or at least try to make sure it doesn’t happen again with us around; we may not know a lot about you still when it comes to before the mirror and all, but that won’t stop us from not being there when you need us.” Crowley chipped in, taking his angel’s hand in his from across the table.

Iris sat there and took a long sip of her lukewarm tea and let out a gagged sigh.

“I hope it doesn’t happen again, hopefully in time I can move passed it; however, I’m just stuck is all.”

“Are you stuck on the fear of losing people and being sealed away again?” Aziraphale asked.

She nodded.

“Greatly afraid of that; I’ve lost a lot and I don’t want to keep losing things I care about or people who I have come to know. In the span of time before I was sealed away, I had a really good friend that is no longer around; they were the friend that died because of me.” The phone said, doing nothing to portray the raw emotion that was twisting across Iris’s face as she typed it out.

Aziraphale put his hand on her arm to stop her, seeing how it brought so much distress for her to talk about her good friend.

“You don’t have to tell us dear if you don’t want to talk about it.” Aziraphale explained calmly. “If you are not ready to discuss it, we are okay with waiting till your ready to talk about it. Loss takes time to heal and can be painful to talk about sometimes, if it brings you pain, you don’t have to tell us.”

Iris nodded with a slight sniffle.

“If I can ask, what was your friends name?” Crowley asked.

“There name was E.”


	8. Gardens and Golden Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a star in this chapter and a song I'm citing as well

Aziraphale and Crowley decided to stay with Iris for a while, drinking tea with bouts of comfortable silence that fell between them; the three of them fell on different topics that varied as time went on. Iris’s drunk and high state soon faded, returning her to her usual shy nature with an uneasy smile that crossed her face as they continued to discuss various types of music and literature.

Rain had begun to hit the kitchen window and roof in a steady drum, the colors outside merging into a soupy mess. Iris turned to look out the window, remembering days like this from long ago; it may have been years ago now, but the memory of rain always brought her back to the first time sitting in front of a large window with her hand pressed to the window. Her eyes watching the clouds above shift as they rolled by above the city below; the cities lights melting and distorting in the heavy drops of rain.

_“What are you doing here, I thought you were in choral practice?” a voice said behind her._

_Iris turned her head from the window to see a tall figure standing next to her; she knew them, they were an older sibling to them, and felt comfort in knowing that there was not anyone that would normally get on them._

_“Oh, it ended early, I just decided to watch the rain is all,” Iris said turning her head back to the window with her hand trailing down the racing rain drops down the face of the window. “I like the rain.”_

_The familiar voice chuckled slightly in a strangely cold way._

_“There is nothing special to rain, also you might want to stop touching the window before they make you clean it.”_

_Iris removed her hand from the window with her eyes down casted, she wondered why they thought rain was not special. It was always seen as a comforting sight in her eyes, but at that moment it felt cold, almost like her fascination was foolish; she stood up from the floor where she sat and headed down the hall trying to hide their downcast eyes from them. It was not the first time they had said something like that to them and it was certainly not the last._

Iris still felt somewhat foolish for liking the rain, she had always found it tranquil to watch the heavy drops trail down the windows and the rhythmic thumps of rain lulling her into a sense of security. She could sit and watch the rain for hours, even if it were a thunder shower, she found the jagged bolts of electricity that dance across the sky fascinating.

Iris recalled a time when her and E were together, Iris was sitting before the front window of a comfortably lit sunroom watching the thunderstorm outside, the garden outside becoming drenched from the heavy downpour; the winds whistling through the trees and brushed against the sides of the house. A familiar voice catching her off guard in her tranquil state.

_“Hey, what are you doing Iris, I brought you some tea.” E said with a small smile on their face._

_Iris shrugged with a small uneasy smile on their face like they had been caught doing something they should not have been doing._

_“Oh, nothing.” Iris replied through as slight stutter. She felt uneasy with them in the room, she was waiting for them to start ridiculing them for putting their hand on the window and tracing the heavy streams of rain that trickled down the window._

_E raised an eyebrow and sat beside them, handing Iris their mug of tea, and E held a mug of tea in their hand as well. E took a sip of their tea and watched as Iris’s eyes avoided the window; the thunderstorm outside raged on, it had been raining most of the day at this point and the hot temperatures that they had been having all week finally broke with the cold front storm._

_“Its raining cats and dogs out there huh?” E asked and gazed out the window and then back to Iris sitting slightly ramrod._

_“What is it Iris, I know that look?”_

_“What look?”_

_“You know the one, what it is?”_

_Iris sighed and took a long sip of tea and looked out the window with a sorrowful look; she mumbled something that E could not hear._

_“What did you say hun?”_

_“I said, was waiting for you to- to make fun of me for watching the rain.” Iris finally said with her eyes down cast from the window and from E’s bewildered gaze at why they thought that._

_“Why would I make fun of you for watching the rain?”_

_Iris stared silently out the window for a long time, not knowing whether to bring up the constant reprimanding she got for merely observing the weather or just by doing anything that was not seen as proper; apparently looking out a window was improper._

_“It’s complicated.”_

_“Nothing is to complicated Iris.”_

_“I was told that it was foolish to watch the rain and that me dragging my fingers along the windows will result in me cleaning them for punishment.”_

_E looked at them confused for a moment._

_“Who in the hell told you that, it’s not foolish to watch the rain; if you must know I like to watch the rain and the snow fall. Watching weather phenomenon’s is calming and, in a way, nostalgic. Who cares if you get the windows dirty, we clean them anyways so what’s the big deal?”_

_“It had to do with looking clean and pristine, I guess. I used to get reprimanded by my family for looking out the windows; they said it was unnatural to do so unless observing for a moment and not sitting or standing there for several hours. I had to clean these big bay windows all the time just by putting my hand on the window or just by trailing the rain with my fingers._

_“No offense but your family sound like a bunch of ass-wipes.”_

_“In a sense they were, and I’m happy I don’t see them often.” Iris said with a soft chuckle. “Honestly, the only family I need is you.”_

“Hey Iris, you okay, you have been staring out the window for the last ten or so minutes?” Crowley asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She nodded.

“Just watching the rain, I have always liked the rain.”

Crowley and Aziraphale looked at one another and stared out the window as well.

“We happen to have witnessed the first rain shower in history; signifies Aziraphale ands I’s first meeting, so it has a spot in our hearts as well.”

Iris stared at them in awe, she wondered what it would have been like to see the first rain shower in history; it probably would have been interesting to see. The awed look on her face caught Aziraphale and Crowley’s attention; making them smile at the sight.

“I was told once that watching the rain was stupid, however, I found someone who liked the rain as much as I did,” Iris explained. “We used to watch the different storms and showers all the time way back when.”

“Whoever told you to not like rain is a prick; like whatever you want to like. Your friend and you sound like you enjoyed each other’s company and watching the rain together.” Crowley said growling a bit in the beginning out of anger for whoever thinks they can tell other people what they liked but, grew softer in tone at the thought of them finding someone who enjoyed their company and the same things.

Iris chuckled a bit, it was slightly muted, but they could hear the soft sound of her voice before it faded out.

“You sound just like them when I told them that.”

“Who would that be dear?” Aziraphale asked.

“My good friend E, the felt the same way as me about a lot of things, but they did have one thing I didn’t and that was a free-spirited nature to things.”

Crowley and Aziraphale could imagine just what they would have sounded like if they could talk; they could imagine how mournful they must have sounded talking about this friend of theirs. They both let out a sigh and looked into each other’s eyes before returning to Iris, who sat there drinking her tea; the steady drum of rain seeming to seize, letting the sunshine to peak into the kitchen from behind the grey sky.

They felt they understood her more, the reason for her shoving people away out of fear of what happened before occurring again; they did not want that happening again either and wanted to help her get past this point, to heal and to move on. With the sun’s rays dancing across the tile floor and old wallpapered walls, they silently declared to be there more and better understand her; helping her along and forming a friendship that would help her move on from her dreadful past, helping her to be happier and open a bit more then she was now. There was still a long road ahead, and they could not leave her now.

* * *

Aziraphale and Crowley had taken the initiative to invite her with them that did not involve lunch; rather they went to the parks around London and went to various gardens, antique shops, and music stores to help her become less jumpy while out in public.

The first time they had taken her to the park, she hid behind them the entire time and looked on the verge of having a heart attack just by the people around them. After going back multiple times over the last months with nothing happening though, she relaxed a bit and ventured either further or behind Aziraphale and Crowley like an over enthusiastic child. She would feed the ducks with them and eventually went out for picnics with them when it was a nice day out; eventually she went out with them for a bite to eat and seemed to relax a bit more than they had seen in months.

They found their adventures to various stores and gardens, even if the garden idea was Crowley’s, it seemed to help her open a bit more. She still wore many layers of clothing that covered her from her neck to the tips of her fingers and toes; her hair still hung in her face but there was always a small smile under on her face of pure joy, which was off putting sometimes because they were used to seeing her for so long without a smile on her face.

They uncovered that she liked gardening or had a fascination with the various plants that grew in the public gardens they visited; as well as the plants that Crowley had in his flat. Most of the plants she admired where tropical as well as various flowering bushes, vines or ivy, and brightly colored blossoms. Crowley found it interesting that she also seemed to have a knack for understanding upkeep on certain plants, especially rose bushes.

Another thing they had uncovered was her interest in record collecting and collecting books that she had, apparently, missed out on reading through the years; however, most of her collecting of books and music was from the last one-hundred or so years. She seemed to like collecting clothing as well, especially stuff that was closer to 60s fashion which, was interesting to both Aziraphale and Crowley.

They never seemed to wear what they had bought, rather they wore the pins and patches they found in bins at stores and decorated their coat with them. Crowley had wanted to point out that he had never once seen them in a different outfit but, decided against saying anything.

* * *

Iris and Crowley were walking down the street from the bakery, it had become a normal thing for them both; Iris wanted to just stretch her legs and walk around a bit and Crowley just wanted to get Aziraphale a little something while he went out with her. A small bag of pastries was clenched in Crowley’s hand as he walked with Iris besides him, her hands stuck in the pockets of their coat, gazing into the windows of stores.

Crowley didn’t really know what to talk about with them, they often found they were comfortable with silence between them as they walked back to the bookshop; the bookshop was barely two blocks away and walking was easier then grabbing the Bentley and driving down a short way and coming back. He was so lost in his own thoughts that when he turned to look to his side Iris was gone; he turned around looking for them and found them standing before a large front window of an antique shop.

Crowley rolled his eyes and chuckled softly, they were just like his angel, getting distracted by something.

“What are you looking at kid?” Crowley asked standing beside him and looking in the display case.

They pointed to a large box of records in the back of the display case, it was collection box of various old music it seemed. Decorated with bright colored pictures of events and people that looked like they were from the 40s.

“Are you looking at the record collection, why?”

Iris shrugged and began typing on her phone. There was a small, awed gaze on their face, but it soon twitched to a saddened gaze.

“I used to have that old collection of records but, they got misplaced.”

Iris was lying about the records of course, or at least what happened to the first collections of records that they had. It was a ten-record collection* filled with various old songs that they had adored; they purchased the original set off a TV special offer many years ago. They still remembered the day they got caught with it and what happened after.

_“What in the world are you listening to?” her other older sibling said, a distasteful look on his face and in his voice. Iris did not like them that much; they were always rather rude to her._

_“It’s just something I found, its all music I have heard before fro-_

_The older sibling came over and pulled the needle up on the record player they had bought and took the record off the player and picked up the entire box of records. The record they just took off scrapping against the box, which made Iris wince as they held the box up in their arms and walked out of the room with Iris running after them with a panic rushing through them._

_They came before their favorite older sibling with and explained the situation. With that they called Iris before them, a metal bin before them._

_“We talked about this, this stuff is un-music, it is rotting your brain.” The favorite sibling explained. “As your sibling has told me, you have heard this rubbish before and now pollute your mind with silly ideals.”_

_They dropped the box of records into the bin in front of them and promptly threw a match onto the box; tears began to creep into Iris’s eyes as she watched the box before her burn and the records inside burn away. Her two siblings stood their ridiculing her but, her mind was too preoccupied watching the very thing that she had just bought; the very thing filled with all her favorite songs being destroyed before her._

_“Iris do you understand?” Her favorite sibling asked._

_She nodded mutely. She wanted to scream she was mad but all she could express was grief._

_“Now try listening to this, or something else that isn’t that; we have a reputation to uphold, you know, that right?”_

_“Yes, I know, “Iris’s voice wavered as they took the simple record, they told them to listen to. “it won’t happen again.”_

_“good, that’s good to hear.”_

“Kid are you okay, you have been starring like you have witness death?” Crowley asked in concern bringing them back to the present.

They nodded, still feeling the small pang in their chest about remembering the burning records.

Iris reached into her pocket and pulled out a bit of money but, Crowley stopped them. Having them put away their money and went in and purchased it for them; Crowley had known that this had meant something to them, a simple box of records that he had never even heard of before. Iris had bought all the things that she had wanted from every place they had visited with her own funds; however, Crowley wanted to be ‘nice’ for a change and buy them something in return.

He came out of the store with the box in hand and handed it to them; watching them stare at it as though they just had been given something close to them that they had lost. They stood there in shock as their eyes went between the large collection of records and then back to them.

“You okay kid?”

He had noticed how red their face had gone as they stood there staring a hole through him; she turned on her heels and held the records close to her chest like her life depended on it. He thought he could have seen her lips mutter a mute thank you, but he was unsure.

Crowley just shrugged it off as them being too shocked for words and just let it slide.

They entered the bookshop and headed to the back room; the bookshop was vacant since Aziraphale miracled all the customers to leave his shop some time ago. Iris found it normal to walk into the shop deprived of customers since Aziraphale distained the idea of selling his various tombs.

Crowley and Iris made their way to the back room, seeing Aziraphale sitting in his worn armchair with his attention entirely drawn to the lemon-colored book in front of him. His reading glasses rested upon his nose with his blue eyes gazing over the words with a small smile of comfort on his face.

“Hey angel we’re back,” Crowley said as he approached him and rested a hand on his shoulder; a small smile on his face as he looked down at his lover.

Aziraphale smiled and looked up at Crowley.

“Oh, hello dear-heart,” Aziraphale’s eyes gazing up at Crowley.

Crowley bent down and planted a kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead, which caused them both to blush; a small smile and warm feeling blooming between the both of them.

“Oh dear, you brought you something, oh you shouldn’t have!” he said with a joyful smile on his face; pulling Crowley down to his level and planting a passionate kiss on Crowley’s lips.

Crowley turned a shade of bright red.

“Angel, is fine.” He giggled in a giddy tone.

Aziraphale removed his glasses and placed them atop his already closed book, placing them to the side as he got up from his chair and took the bag from Crowley’s hand and set it on the side table.

“Still dearest, it was rather nice of you.”

“I’m not nice.” Crowley groaned.

“Yes, you are.” A phone said, interrupting the both of them on their conversation; Iris stood there with the record tucked under her arm and phone in hand.

“I’m not nice kid.”

She began to type.

“You may say that, but deep down you have a kind soul that you hide behind a lot of brick walls; I don’t really know what hell is like and I could imagine that many of the residents aren’t particularly friendly or ‘nice’ in anyway.” The phone said.

Crowley’s mouth fell open a bit in shock, Aziraphale just stared at them as though they had just taken the words right out of their mouth and they didn’t know Crowley as long as he had.

“You seemed to have landed right on the spot Iris with that observation.” Aziraphale pointed out as he watched Crowley sputter for a few moments trying to collect himself for being read like an open book by someone he did not know all that well still.

Iris was not far off with their observation of Crowley’s behavior when being called nice; Aziraphale knew exactly what hell was like from firsthand and understood many of the walls Crowley had put up over time after he fell. Hell was a rather dismal place filled with very cruel individuals that were far different then Crowley was, and Aziraphale knew that as well as Iris (there were a few other friends they made during the non-apocalypse; however, they did not push the subject any further like Iris had).

Crowley didn’t talk much about his fall from grace, and if he did it was very vague details that he shared with Aziraphale; however, if he ever let his angel know what had happened to him and what he had gone through in hell before they met in Eden, he would never be able to see him the same way again. Upon falling, he was burned slightly, causing his wings to turn a deep grey that eventually deepened to a rich black. He remembered heaven, but not much of it due to a majority of it being miracled by heaven into a garbled, blurry mess; all he knew was he helped make the stars and enjoyed his work as a creator of various constellations and his favorite of them all: _Alpha Centauri_.

Upon waking up in hell after the fall, he learned that any sort of kindness was a weakness of some kind; compassion, love, joy, and other heart felt, positive emotions were quickly turned to damaging ones. Those that did not comply with the change in their environment were tortured and beaten till their damned souls finally broke and they gave into the infernal elements they were in; losing the small bit of joy they once had. Crowley didn’t really loose his, he just learned to keep it suppressed till he met Aziraphale; however, being reminded of being anything resembling ‘nice’ reminded him of his old ties to heaven and the abuse one would sustain from hell for being such a thing.

“Ngk, says you, you’re all a mystery to us and you come out swinging like you’ve known us for years!”

Iris cocked her head. She could see the smoke puffing out of his ears just by pushing it, but she did not like seeing him beat himself up and get all defensive like he had been in the past when Aziraphale, herself, or literally anyone called him ‘nice’.

“Then explain why you always do deeds that are considered kind-hearted? You have an ounce of thoughtfulness to you Crowley that you do not seem to agree with. I may not know you or your friend very well, but I do see that it strikes a nerve to you to be called as such, so I’m going to say I’m politely ending the conversation on that note, and I apologize for stepping over a boundary.”

Crowley and Aziraphale just stared at her, they had no idea what to say besides the fact that she was fairly right about everything she had just said. She headed over and took a seat on the sofa with their eyes trailing her; she set the records down besides her and watched as Crowley shifted his sunglasses. Aziraphale had turned to stand at Crowley’s side.

“I accept your apology kid.” Crowley muttered in a bemused state. “But how did you come to that theory exactly?”

Iris’s lips flattened into a straight line as she thought of how to explain it to him without sounding strange; she knew exactly how it felt to beat yourself down all the time, especially from her upbringing,

“I just understand how it feels to be complimented for something or accused of something that you believe that you are or aren’t. I feel you see being ‘nice’ as a sting due to hells treatment or you.” The phone said.

Crowley’s eyebrows knit at that, wondering what they had experienced like he? Perhaps it had to do with something before that they weren’t keen on telling them yet? All Crowley knew was that they were pretty on point with their theory of him; leaving him feel exposed in a sense that he had not expected in a while.

Anathema had read him fairly well many years ago after that non-apocalypse, even Aziraphale had read him openly on a few occasions but, it was primarily due to them talking about feelings during their departure from their respective offices after their trials, which lead to the beginning of the romantic part of their relationship. But to be read openly by someone with barely any knowledge about their experiences in hell made him uneasy; was he really that easy to read, was he that easy to understand behind the façade he wore, for Crowley did not know and didn’t know how to react besides a small croak that had escaped him.

Aziraphale stared at the both of them, his eyes trailing between the overwelled and bewildered stare of his lover and then to Iris, who was sitting there with a strangely understanding essence about her.

“Would you both like tea?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the long tensioning silence between them all.

Iris nodded as well as Crowley.

Aziraphale headed into the small kitchenette at the back of the back room with Crowley trailing behind. Crowley leaned against the counter and watched as Aziraphale began to put the kettle on the small, ancient stove and miracled the gas on.

“That was surely something was it not Crowley?” Aziraphale asked with a sigh, breaking Crowley’s long stare into the void as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

“Yeah, your right angel but, how in the Something did they do that?” Crowley said crossing his arms and watched as Aziraphale pulled over a small footstool, which had not been in the backroom, and stepped on top of it to reach the top cupboard.

“I do believe that they just assumed, but it was quiet shocking they had figured you out like that?” Aziraphale prophesied as he pulled down a few boxes of tea and set them atop the counter.

Crowley came up behind him and helped him down the footstool; Aziraphale was rather close to the stove and didn’t want him falling off the stool and hurting himself or worse, falling onto the stove when it was lit. The memory of the burning bookshop crossing his mind whenever his angle was around a flame, whether it be gas from the stove or the comfortable light of a candle or fireplace; he didn’t want to see his angel catch ablaze.

“Oh, thank you dear,” Aziraphale smiled as he turned to face Crowley and pecked a small kiss on Crowley’s cheek, causing the demons face to turn a bright shade or red that matched his hair.

“Its nothing to worry about dove,” Crowley said trying to come back to his sense after being once again caught off guard by something today.

Aziraphale smiled and turned back to the kettle, which was about to begin whistling when he snapped his fingers and the flame went out; he began to make three cups of tea for each of them, handing Crowley’s green tea to him and carrying two cups of jasmine tea out for himself and Iris.

By the time they had all gotten settled in with their tea, and the strangeness that had ensued subsided; Aziraphale had noticed the large collection of records resting by Iris’s side. He put on his dainty reading glasses and leaned to the side to try seeing the cover of the large record box next to them.

“Iris what is that if I may ask?”

Iris turned and handed him the large collection of records with an uneasy hand; it was almost like they thought he would take them and never give it back.

“What is this, is this music because I have never heard of this collection before?” Aziraphale asked with a curiosity to his tone of voice. “Where did you even get this if I may ask?”

Crowley set his mug off to the side and explained before Iris could even whip out her phone.

“Its like old music from WWII, just by the cover alone; Iris saw it in the window of the antique shop down the street and I popped in and kind or got it for them-

“Oh Crowley, that was very thoughtful of you to get them this!”

“Indeed, it was, and I thank you for that,” said the phone. “I explained I had well, misplaced the exact same collection years ago and never found another collection of it, well that was until today and I thank you.”

Crowley sighed; he didn’t want to go back into that conversation, so he let it slide.

Aziraphale smiled and took a sip of his tea.

“You can put it on if you want to Iris, I’m actually intrigued.” Aziraphale said with a small smile crossing his face as he wiggled with excitement.

Iris smiled and got up an pulled out the first record of the ten-record album, setting the A-side up and starting the record player. Crowley and Aziraphale watched as she set the needle slowly down on the record; the player began to emit the old sound of swing music and big band. The song filled the back room, making Aziraphale and Crowley smile as they remembered back when and all the old music that used to play that no one recalled now adays.

They watched as Iris backed away from the player and shoved the coffee table over so there was an open space; they watched with interest as Iris seemed to soften to the music like her heart had yearned to hear this song again, a small smile on her face as she changed positions and began to slowly swing dance with an invisible partner. Her delicate steps across the old rug with grace and poise; Aziraphale and Crowley stared in shock at how she moved precisely in choreography. They caught her lip syncing the lyrics as she danced

_“It seems to me I’ve heard that song before_

_Its from an old familiar score,_

_I know it well that melody “_

Crowley got up and offered Aziraphale a hand. This caught Aziraphale off guard since he was

“Since their dancing doesn’t mean we can’t,” Crowley said with a sly smirk.

“Oh, you wily serpent I’ll dance,” he smiled as he rose to his feet. “But I worn you, I’m not the best at dancing though so you might have to lead dear.”

Crowley smiled.

“I got you angel; I’ll lead then.”

_“Please have them playing again,_

_And I’ll remember just when,_

_I heard that lovely song before.”_

Aziraphale and Crowley smiled as Crowley led him about the small, carpeted space; glancing at Iris as she continued to lip sync the lyrics with a small heartthrob look on her face. It was an enchanting thing to dance with one another and to see Iris so in love with the music being played; it made them all feel like they were all whole in their own way.

Crowley and Aziraphale dancing in the warm embrace of their lovers’ company, soaking up ever breathtaking moment with them as thought it was the first time they had met; every minute they danced together, listening to how the music changed brought them together. They were on their side and nothing could tear them apart. 

As Iris felt whole being able to relistened to a once burned album she had from many years ago; the feeling or tears of joy threatening to spill as she twirled around in a dream like state. Every step she took seemed to be tattooed into her memory from the various times she had danced with people through the years, from her first friends to E. It all felt old and new, a nostalgic wave making her see stars and lights like she had years ago when she had first heard that song being played.

As the day continued on and the day grew into the golden hour, they continued to dance, with Aziraphale and Crowley eventually partaking in alcohol as the sun set behind the buildings. Iris didn’t drink but, decided to watch and be apart of the banter between Crowley and Aziraphale. After some time, they all seemed to bounce theories and conversations off one another in different states of being sober, to drunk, to extremely intoxicated as the evening went on and the records had all been played with them smiling to each one.

* * *

It had been a few days since Aziraphale and Crowley had seen Iris pop by, and assumed they went back to their hermit ways of hiding away. They thought they had gotten them out of that vicious cycle, but it seemed they had stepped back into it.

Crowley had already told Aziraphale he was going to check on Iris to make sure she was okay and would be back shortly. He drove over to her house and stepped out of the Bentley onto the empty street; he headed up the steps on the front porch and before he even knocked on the door, it opened.

Iris stood there with a bewildered look on her face as Crowley stared them up and down; they were dressed far differently then they had before. Iris was dressed in a pair of overalls and 70’s looking blue floral shirt; her bare-feet were covered with dirt as well as the deep brown, leather gloves that were on her hands. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing her skinny forearms that were speckled with dirt as well. Her face was still covered by her hair, which a straw hat sat upon her head.

“Hey kid, just came to check on you, see if you are okay.”

Iris nodded and sighed pulling out her phone and began typing with thick gloves and eventually just motioned him to come in.

Crowley stepped inside with the door closing behind him with a quick motion and slam that cause him to jump; he had not even touched the door. He turned to face the door and when he turned back to face Iris, her gardening gloves had been replaced with a pair of fingerless gloves.

“I’m doing okay, just was gardening is all.” The phone said. “I got a bit caught up doing that and was away for a while.”

Crowley’s brows furrowed.

“What garden, this house has no back yard?” Crowley asked.

Iris stared at him for a moment.

“How do you know I don’t have a backyard?”

“Because your mudroom doesn’t have a back door, if you had one, I would have seen it.”

Iris sighed.

“I have another house I garden at.”

Crowley crossed his arms and stared at them for a moment with an unimpressed look on his face

“Where would that house be at then”

Iris frowned and didn’t really know how to explain it.

“Just follow me would you, its better if you see it then anything.” The phone said as Iris turned on her heels and walked down the hallway with Crowley trailing behind.

They came to the kitchen and came before the door to the boom closet, which she clicked closed pressed her hand onto the surface of the wooden body of the door. Crowley felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle up as he stood there watching the gap between the door, the floor, and the frame beginning to glow a strange blue color as a strange sigil glowed on the surface of the door, emitting small shocks of electricity.

She removed her hand and turned back to see Crowley’s shocked expression; she opened the door revealing a hallway of a wooden floored house with light green colored walls. Warm light filled the hall, casting rainbow reflections of light along the wall.

She stepped through the door with Crowley following cautiously through. His eyes darting everywhere as he took in his new surroundings, taking them all in with the different smells and temperature. It was far warmer than it had been, with a light breeze gusting against him as he looked around; Iris closed the door behind him and beckoned him into a room near to the door they had just come out of, leading him into an old, styled kitchen and out the back door into a large garden.

They stepped out onto a bricked patio that outlooked a large, garden that had stone pathways, ivy archways, a large vegetable garden, an herb garden, various flowering bushes, English rose bushes, and trees, as well as fruit trees like orange, pear, and pomegranate trees. Tasteful patio furniture was placed around a large stone fire pit; a hammock was set up under two large oak trees on the far side of the property where a rope swing had been set up. In the far distance of what Crowley could see, was a forest that boarded the end of the property.

Windchimes sung peacefully together and did nothing to distract the awe that Crowley was in just looking at the garden. Butterflies flew about along side various birds that had made nests in a few of the various bird houses in the taller oak and pine trees around the property.

“Where are we?” Crowley breathed in awe.

“We are in the US actually; this is my other home. I like the warmer states, and this happened to be the one I had settled down in and well, grew all this.” The phone said as they motioned to the expansive vegetation around them.

Crowley continued to stand there with his mouth slightly agape at the garden before him.

“Is it okay if I walk out and –

Iris motioned them to go ahead, which they walked out into the gardens and explored for some time; leaving Iris to there to watch him as he slowly made his way further into the gardens. Iris snapped her fingers and miracled her garden glove on again and let out a small sigh; she was happy that the door slammed shut when it did so she could miracle her fingerless gloves on. The last thing she needed was him to get a full understanding of her essence; yes, she did just miracle or open the gate way to her house, but it had always been there and only opening for her anyhow.

Even if he now knew or had assumed, she was an angel, he knows knew, but he didn’t know the full story or what she was exactly; she could have been less careless about it, but no one could really track her if she masked her essence since they could not pinpoint a specific location. Her miracles were often weak ones, so it went under the radar for the most part.

She decided that since nothing had happened since she had been released that she should mellow out a bit; they didn’t know, and she hadn’t bumped into anyone yet to raise suspicion. She sighed and got back to gardening and tried to remember where she was before she went back to England for a few minutes. Her mind was blank for a moment until she remembered the rose bushes, she had to trim them back a bit since they started over taking the path again.

* * *

Crowley was in absolute plant heaven walking amongst the lush garden around him; he admired how it changed styles drastically the more he ventured on. He had noticed that the garden seemed to be a mixture of many different types or layouts for gardens, like from a French styled garden to an Italian garden. The transitioning of different gardens was seamless making the experience even better as he got to the different tropical plants that harbored a small section of the garden; the plants weren’t like his but, he did notice that they were well cared for, even if one or two of the leaves on one plant had brown spots on them which, he wanted to yell at them, but it wasn’t his place.

After some time of looking around though, he started to uncover other buildings, one being a large barn for cars, as another was a small glass paned green house that was filled with various seedlings of fall or summer fruits and vegetables. After walking the entire property for what felt like hours, he headed back to house, seeing that Iris’s house was a strange mixture of a cottage and a Victorian home.

He headed inside the back door, not seeing Iris anywhere and walked around a bit out of curiosity; his eyes trailing to the various old pictures on the walls that were of faces and places that he did not know. They were rather older pictures, probably taken somewhere between a hundred or so years ago just by the photos alone; however, he soon found that there was a familiar looking girl in every photo. His eyes eventually found a small poster for an old show from 1934 with various women’s faces along the sides, which one looked familiar. The name underneath the poster read: Iris Heart.

He heard the backdoor closed and saw Iris standing there with a hand pull of freshly cut roses with a confused look on their face.

“Iris, is this you?” Crowley asked.

Iris froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The album that is called "I've Heard That Song Before" by RCA; its a ten record album with various old 30's and 40's music on it.
> 
> as for the song, it is call "I've Heard That Song Before" by Harry James and his Orchestra ( with vocals by Helen Forest). 
> 
> I


	9. Understandings

Iris stared in horror at what he had just asked, it felt like her world was coming down around her; the deadening blow of silence piercing her ears. Her heart seemed to turn to ice and sink, the bottom of her stomach seemed to drop as she stood there wide-eyed at him; however, he really could not make the expression behind her long bangs. She gripped the roses she had cut in her hand, digging the thorns on accident into her hand as her body began to tense and tremble slightly. Panic waved through her, her vision began to darken around the edges, giving her tunnel vision.

“Kid you okay you don’t look so good?” Crowley said, but his voice seemed far away to her as she slowly turned and headed back to the kitchen and set the rosed down on the table; she pulled a chair away from the table and collapsed into it.

It was done, Iris knew she was found out and that this was the beginning of the end; he had seen an old photo of her. Why hadn’t she taken those photos down before she invited him over and or why did she keep them up in the first place; her inner panic began to set in as she realized what this could lead to: Aziraphale finding out.

She groaned internally that eventually turned to an internal scream; the last thing she needed was him knowing about what she looked like. He was an angel and probably would recognize her if he saw her face or if Crowley said anything. The last thing she needed was the both of them knowing about who she was or what she was for that matter; Iris wasn’t comfortable with them knowing that knowledge. Yes, she was an angel, and they had probably already concluded that after they had met; however, knowing what she was and what her position was what the problem was.

“Kid you okay?” Crowley asked as he entered the room carefully, he had not seen them in such a state since they had come out of the mirror; however, he assumed something else was the problem and, that all commenced when he asked if it was them in the old poster in the hall.

Iris sat there with her hands in her hair with a panicked expression on her face, her breathing was off as she sat there before him; Crowley concluded it was hyperventilating and frantically raked his brain trying to figure out a way to calm her down before she passed out.

Crowley had recalled Aziraphale being in this state before; he recognized the symptoms of either a panic or anxiety attack.

“Hey kid calm, its okay, its okay your fine,” Crowley soothed, trying to calm her down enough. He understood that asking that seemed to set them off and found it better to ignore his curiosity and assist them. “Your fine, I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

Iris’s breathing finally calmed enough, her panic subsides slightly but, she was still was uneasy and he could tell that by their shaken body-language. Crowley pulled up a chair besides her and watched as she slowly regained herself bit by bit till, she was sitting straight in her seat; a deep, heavy, shaken sigh escaping her as she closed her eyes and reached into her pocket for her phone.

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

She let out a small broken sob and began to type things out on her phone with shaking hands.

“I’m just afraid is all.”

Crowley’s brows furrowed as he stared at them trying to figure out what they meant by that.

“Afraid of what?” he asked.

“I was afraid that since you saw what I looked like it was the end of everything.”

Crowley was still confused as to what they were meaning.

“Why is that a bad thing?”

Iris looked up at Crowley and ran a hand through her hair.

“Remember when I told you and your friend about how I have had friends pass away because of my presence?”

Crowley nodded.

“Well, if the people that put me in the mirror are still out there and see me, they will probably hurt you two and anyone else around me; then if I’m lucky they won’t seal me away again.”

Once they said that everything clicked back to that conversation and the fear of being sealed away again and causing people more pain; the pain of not being able to form friendships or possibly love. They probably used their hair to hide their face from whoever it was they were hiding from and, bringing up their photo on that poster probably horrified them to no end that he knew what they looked like.

“I know you want to apologize but I just want to tell you I accept your apology and you did nothing wrong; I should have taken all that down; it’s not relevant anymore.”

Crowley leaned back in shock with a somber expression passing over his face.

“Kid its relevant ‘casue it’s you, fuck what I think and all that. If you want to leave them up leave them up, it’s your stuff, it’s your photos and your memories and accomplishments!”

Iris nodded to that.

“I don’t like seeing pictures of me before, I wasn’t allowed to change much so a lot of my older photos were what someone wanted of me.”

“Wait you were forced to look like that?” Crowley pointed out to them in a tone that sounded like disgust for whoever made them do that; a snarl of subtle anger making its presence known. “You weren’t able to be yourself at all?”

Iris nodded and snapped her fingers, miracleing a nice china tea set before them on the table with a coffee pot sitting on the dark oak tray that rested between them. Crowley stared at her and jumped at the sight of the tray materializing from nowhere to the spot on the table.

Crowley blinked and registered that this was the first time they had miracled anything in front of them before. Iris took a strawberry decorated teacup off the trey and poured some tea out of the pot in the middle of the tray. Crowley picked up a cup from the tray and poured himself some of the coffee from the small pot on the side.

He mixed in a small amount of sugar as he watched Iris mix in a bit of honey and mint to their tea. They both took sips of their drinks and sat in silence for a moment.

“I was never allowed to cut my hair that short,” Iris’s phone finally said. “I was never allowed to change many things about my experience since, well reasons, especially with people I knew.”

“So, you could never change any of that?” Crowley asked, baffled at what he had heard from them. “You could never change anything or even be yourself?”

Iris nodded solemnly.

“They wouldn’t let me do any of that.”

_“What have you done to your hair, why is it so short?!” The favorite sibling said, their eyes scanning them up and down. “And what are you even wearing?”_

_Iris stood there with her hands clasped in front of her as she took the berating from them. She did not think that her changing things up was bad, she was dressed in a mod-styled dress that was a deep green with a mustard yellow dress shirt underneath it and a pair of black strapped shoes and knee-high socks; the outfit was far different then her calf length, 30s dress that was a deep grey color. Her once long hair had been chopped into a pixie cut, framing her face and pronouncing her high cheekbones of her face._

_“I wanted to try-_

_“Wanted to try what, to look like them, you are an ethereal being and you shouldn’t change what she gave you,” the favorite sibling said and snapped their fingers; causing their cloths to change to the grey dress again. The bright colors muting to a slate grey with the once comfortable fabric shifting to the itchy, irritating fabric of miracled clothing._

_They stepped towards Iris and miracled her hair longer again, causing it to waterfall into long curls down to her shoulders she tried to step back but they grabbed her arm and tucked a ringlet hair behind Iris’s ear, the uncomfortable tension causing her eyes to dart downwards to the floor; it did not feel right for them to be this close and the way their stared at her like she wasn’t seen like a sibling in anyway._

_“You look better this way,” They said in a whisper that chilled Iris to the bone in a sick way. “Don’t come back here dressed like that again and, stop going down there when we need you up here working and not down there with ‘them’.”_

“That some fucken bullshit right there, whoever they were they should have let you be you, was it your friends or someone else?”

Iris shook her head.

“It was someone else, I left them and tended to avoid them after a certain point; I did change but, very little so, there’s that.”

Crowley nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

“You should change to the way you want kid, fuck what they think.” Crowley said as he dramatically swung his legs over one another as he sat there in his seat.

Iris gave a small, saddened smirk and took a sip of their tea.

“So, if I can ask what is with the poster?” Crowley asked, trying to change the subject away from that.

Iris seemed to perk up a bit.

“Oh, I used to sing back in the day, used to do show business and torchlight singing and all that and stopped around 1949 to 1950. I loved it, I loved to sing and loved everything about it; singing, dancing, and all that.”

Crowley stared at her in disbelief and in awe.

“So, you did show business and all that?”

She nodded with a small smile on her face.

“I kept a lot of my stuff after all these years, I thank one of my oldest friends for getting me into show business singing and doing those shows for the war and all that. I loved every minute of it with my older friend and their show business friends.”

“Who was this person?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, that would be Kelly, Kelly was a show girl and singer during the 20s. We met at a party and she introduced me to her friends.”

Crowley stared at them baffled for a moment.

“WAIT, you’re telling me you have been around since the 20’s-

Iris stared at him in disbelief as to what he was saying, she didn’t realize that he was this oblivious. She had just snapped a tray in front of them and miracled them into her house in the U.S.

“Yes, I’m an angel Crowley, I thought that would have known that by now?”

He stared at them.

“Well, I – I assumed that you were, but you never said anything about it.” Crowley stuttered as he pointed out the fact, they had not told him or Aziraphale that information. “You said you were a mixture of both.”

Iris rolled her eyes behind her hair.

“Yes, I’m an angel, I didn’t want to tell you all because I want to avoid anything with that conversation; I didn’t like heaven, they are all assholes. I like to be as human as I can be, hence I haven’t revealed anything to you; And I ask you never to reveal any of this to Aziraphale.”

Crowley’s brows furrowed once again as he stared at them.

“Why, why can’t I tell him anything? We are all the same here and we just want to help you out.” Crowley asked, he could see no reason for her to be secretive.

Iris closed her eyes and took in a deep inhale and exhaled sharply.

“I’m just trying to keep you all safe is all, what do you think heaven and hell would do if they caught you or Aziraphale. They would probably not like you hanging out with me and probably hurt you guys.”

“Kid, head office hasn’t bothered us for years, they won’t bother you; for someone’s sake they never come down to check things out half the time.”

“Yeah, but what if they do, what if they come after you and Aziraphale; I don’t want to see you thrown into a pot of holy water or them dropping Aziraphale from heaven to fall to hell. They will do that just to get back at me and probably hurt me in the process.”

Crowley jumped up instantly with his hands smacking onto the surface of the table, which caused Iris to jump a bit.

“Don’t say that, he won’t fall, I’m not going to boil and, you’re not going to get hurt or any of that so, get that out of your head right now!” Crowley shouted and the sank back into his chair with a thump, an anger burning in his face for the face they had said that and would even thing that their offices would pull that stunt again with them. He took in a deep breath. “You understand?”

Iris nodded and took another sip of her tea.

Crowley dragged his hand through his hair and took a sip of his coffee with the agitated expression still on his face

“I know your pissed because you probably think or hope that doesn’t happen Crowley. I know how it is to fear other forces.” The phone said, as she snapped her fingers and miracled a head band into their hand and pulled back their hair off their face with the band. “I’m hoping it won’t happen, but it is a possibility, you know how they don’t play fair.”

Crowley nodded in agreement with his attention out the window, they had not played fair with either of their trials and of course them bothering them a small bit after, mostly checkups from a far but they never engaged in conversation with

them; however, they eventually just disappeared as a whole. Crowley had noticed that hell left him alone completely but, heaven did not entirely leave Aziraphale alone for some time, eventually they did after Gabriel had popped in and at the park, Crowley and Aziraphale visited often, for a quick chat about old work Aziraphale was meant to send in but, hadn’t for a number or reasons; whether it be he burned them or just was being a stubborn bastard as usual and wanted to hold onto them as a strange sort of keep-sake. Crowley told Gabriel to stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine, and heaven promptly left him alone after that; that was a month after the apocalypse at the time and they had not seen any of them in years at this point.

Crowley turned to see Iris staring at them with their deep brown eyes appearing like honey in the warm light from the window crossing her face. He was rather shocked by what they looked like now after seeing an older photo of her on the poster; she looked somber as she took a sip of her tea with a small smile on her face that did nothing to hide the pain he saw in her eyes. The heartache and loss in her eyes were what killed Crowley slightly, his face and heart crumbled just staring into the hollow voids of her eyes.

“I won’t say anything okay kid; I won’t say anything unless you want me to and that is a promise.”

She nodded with a relieved smile.

* * *

Crowley glanced amongst the large photo album that Iris had pulled down from the shelf of her house back in London. Crowley had already phoned Aziraphale and said that she was okay and that he was talking to her and they would be over soon; Iris had brought the roses she had cut in her garden back to London with her and wrapped them in wax paper so Crowley could give them to Aziraphale.

Crowley’s eyes glanced over the various old photos in front of him, it was fascinating that she had allowed him to gaze through one of her albums filled with old photographs of show business images of her from before. He asked some questions on who people were, she had already pulled the hair band out of her hair, causing her hair to fall back into her face. She sat down next to him as he looked over all the old photos of her various costumes over the centuries.

“You have style kid,” Crowley said, pointing out one of the several outfits she wore; there were a few that he pointed out that he found interesting. One was of her show girl outfits with beaded, corseted leotard with fish nets, heels, and top hat that hung to the side of her head as the other was a floor length gown made of a light-colored liquid satin. “You said you had some of these outfits, right?”

Iris nodded.

“Yeah, I have a lot of these outfits tucked away in my closet upstairs; I had preserved them so I can wear them again in the future. I have found clothing that I have lost over the years and have picked them up occasionally at thrift and antique stores.”

Crowley turned his attention from the book for a moment to see that she seemed to smile fondly at the pictures in the book. Then he turned back to the book.

“Hey Iris, what did you used to sound like if I can ask, before this?” He asked, vaguely gestured to Iris’s throat.

Iris frowned and took a deep sigh.

“I used to sound, as one would put it, like I had a North Eastern American accent, I used to sound nasally sometimes; however, that never really was do to anything it was just my accent I guess.” The phone said as she shrugged. “It never changed, and that was something that really surprised me because people always sound different if they reside in a particular place for a long time.”

Crowley stared at them, the only person he could think from heaven with an American accent was Gabriel and Crowley hated that prick with every fiber of his being for everything he had done to Aziraphale in the past. Besides that, he could not see them sounding like that at all, they did not seem like they would sound nasally at all let alone having a thick American accent; all he could imagine was them having a thick Boston accent and it seemed strange to think about.

“Have you gotten your voice back or is it still gone?” Crowley asked. “I’m not meaning to be rude either kid I just want to ask?”

Iris frowned with a small, pained look on their face as they tried to talk.

It sounded strange, almost like their voice was that of a rasped whisper that did not make any coherent sense to him; a small drip of blood formed at the corner of her mouth and dripped slowly down her face. Crowley stared in horror and miracled them a handkerchief, which they thanked him in sign language and coughed into the white handkerchief, staining it crimson.

“For Sa- someone’s sake kid, if it hurts you then don’t fucken do it!”

She began typing on the phone one hand, her other hand pressed to her mouth with the handkerchief balled up in her hand.

“I have been practicing getting my voice back, I know it’s still there I just have to work on getting it back is all.” The phone said.

 _“You’re not fooling anyone, its not even there yet; you always go into a coughing fit when you attempt to speak.”_ She thought to herself, knowing very well that she had not been able to speak since she got out of the mirror.

Crowley sighed slightly, seeing them still dabbing the now bloodied handkerchief up to their mouth. She eventually took the cloth from her mouth and folded it and set it on her lap; her eyes glancing elsewhere in the room.

“You okay?” he asked.

Iris nodded.

After the coughing fit, they returned to looking at pictures. They passed through a few bits of her career and ended up in the 1960s with a picture of her in a navy-mod dress with an orange button up shirt underneath, her hair was shorter in that picture then it was now.

“Hey Iris, when was this exactly?” he asked pointing to that picture.

She looked at the picture for a moment.

“That was when I was in Manchester in 1964-ish if I’m recalling it correctly. I liked the mod style of the time and decided to try the look out; that was the last time my hair was that short.”

Crowley looked at them with a raised eyebrow. Crowley recalled being in Manchester in the early 1960s at one point before the holy water deal with Aziraphale; he wondered how he had not bumped into them in town and or how he didn’t sense them at all? He decided to let that thought slip to the back of his mind for later when she was more comfortable with talking about the angelic situation.

“So why not cut your hair now, you seemed really happy with it short so why not cut it again?” Crowley asked.

“Well, there are various reasons why.”

Crowley turned to face Iris and found himself interested in those reasons.

“And what would your reasons be?”

She frowned and began typing; she had been typing for some time before pressing a button to answer his question.

“One of the various reason’s is Heaven, they know what I look like and my long hair is sort of a shield or mask in a sense; as much as I want to cut it off, if one of them recognizes me they might snap it back to it being long like it was long ago and I would be harassed on my outer appearance for the rest of eternity. There is also upstairs coming for you two if they see me. Another reason is Aziraphale.”

“What about him, why is he a reason?”

“He is a reason because he might recognize me, I recognize him from heaven but, I don’t think he remembers me unless he knew exactly what I did up there, and that is an entirely different topic on its own that I don’t want to go into.” The phone explained. “I don’t want him reporting me, and or you two getting caught with me around you two. I would be horrified if I saw any of them from upstairs down here.”

“What would you do if you saw one of them down here?” Crowley asked, wondering exactly what would have happened.

“I have no idea, but I feel like it would give many of them a scare because I’m supposed to be dead probably?”

“Would you stand up to them if you saw any of them again?”

“I have no idea; I don’t think I have the fight left in me anymore.”

* * *

Crowley had gone out somewhere, leaving Iris and Aziraphale in the shop. Iris was sitting on the sofa with a book opened in her lap, reading as she had normally done when spending time at the shop. It had been quiet since Crowley had left, Aziraphale had not turned on the record player that sat in the corner; instead, he was amongst the shelves in the closed shop rearranging various books.

Iris had not seen him in well over a half an hour now since he went out and started switching things up; she was curious to see what he was up to and decided to close her book and set it on the coffee table. She quietly walked out into the bookshop and looked around, seeing dust float through the air; she walked amongst the shelves until she finally found him.

She knocked hard on the wood of the shelf, which he turned from what he was doing and looked at the end of the aisle, seeing her standing there.

“Oh, hello Iris, what do you need dear?” He asked as he placed another tome on the shelf a customer had left out earlier in the day.

Iris shrugged and pulled out her phone.

“Just wanted to help is all,” the phone said. “Is there anything I can do?”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows knitted as though in thought for a moment.

“No dear, I’m afraid I’ll just confuse you with how I categorize things.” Aziraphale explained as he pulled the ladder on a track down the aisle and locked it into place.

“Are you sure, I can help if there is anything?”

Aziraphale sighed slightly as he climbed up the steps of the ladder, he could see she was still standing at the end of the aisle.

“Don’t worry about it dear,” He said and instantly regretted it.

Aziraphale felt the ladder shift, which he gripped the edge of it. His balance was lost which, he fell backwards. His eyes closed tightly as he swore for the second time in his life. He was waiting to hit the floor or bump into the shelf behind him, but he did not. He was afraid he had discorporated and ended up in Heaven, oh that would have been a nightmare in itself; Heaven was not so giving when it came to corporations, especially now since the Armageddon that had not.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, seeing the ceiling of the bookshop above him; however, he did not feel the ground beneath him and or behind him, that was if he had fallen to the floor. He turned his head to take in his surroundings, everything seemed normal, but the only thing off was that he was floating in the air, and he was not controlling that.

Aziraphale felt the ground eventually beneath him again, and took a relieved sigh, he was quite relived to have his feet on the ground again; however, he was confused on how he was floating.

“That was strange, wasn’t its Iris?” Aziraphale said turning to see Iris, his confused smile turning to worry.

Iris was standing there like she had seen a ghost; her body was trembling like she was in a dangerous situation.

“Dear are you okay?” Aziraphale asked as he made his way down the aisle to her, seeing she was distressed by something.

He reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder which, she flinched and jumped back; falling onto the floor as she did so and proceeded to scamper to her feet in a panicked way. Her phone sliding out of her hand and under a nearby shelf as she fell and panicked to get away.

“Iris!” Aziraphale said sternly and then softened his tone, trying to bring her back from whatever panicked notion she was on. “Calm down, your fine. Nothing happened I’m fine and your fine too.”

Iris stopped eventually; it took a bit of talking her down to get her into a state to have an understandable conversation. Aziraphale made tea and sat her down on the sofa, which he sat next to her and handed her a cup of tea.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and miracled her phone into his hand which, he handed to her.

“So, would you like to explain what had happened out there dear?” Aziraphale asked.

Iris sighed and began to type.

I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows knit with confusion on what she was sorry about, was it about overreacting to him falling and or floating?

“Could you elaborate dear, I’m a little lost on why your sorry?”

“When you feel, I panicked and all, I didn’t want to see you hurt and I guess I made you well, you know.”

Iris seemed to close in on herself after the phone said that, leaving Aziraphale to connect the dots that she had saved him from a nasty fall using some ability she did not want him knowing about. Aziraphale and Crowley had both assumed she was non-human but, it was weird that she had not told them about it. Aziraphale had been left in the dark wondering certain things about her, same with Crowley.

“So, you saved me?” Aziraphale said sounding distant, he was still trying to wrap his mind around that. “I thank you dear for that but, why did you back away like that?”

Iris took a sip of her tea, shaking slightly as she did so and began to type.

“I was afraid you would have come and hit me or something?” The phone said. “I thought you would have come about the situation entirely different and I thought you would have pried deeper into things I’m not comfortable sharing yet.”

Aziraphale stared at them, he was at a loss of words on why they would think he would hit them; was there something that had happened to them in the past that had caused this fear? Perhaps they had saved someone from an accident like what had happened to him with the ladder and they reacted differently then he had, far differently, and violent for that matter.

“Iris, I would never hurt you, I wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Aziraphale explained to them in a calm tone. “whoever hurt you was wrong in doing so if they hurt you for helping people.”

Iris took a sip of her tea and spaced off for a moment.

“I got hurt for saving someone, and that led to well, this.” Iris said motioning to the jagged scar on her throat. “I didn’t think you would hurt me, but it is just that fear is all.”

Aziraphale nodded, he knew how that was. He knew how he was once when he believed Crowley was an enemy but, then they became friends over the years and eventually fell in love as time crawled on.

“But why dear?” Aziraphale asked. “Why did they hurt you in that way?”

Iris sighed shortly in a pained way, almost like it hurt to even think about or say, her lip wobbled a bit as she tried to compose herself and failed.

“Because they knew that saving this person proved their suspicions about me, which led to this and then the mirror.”

Aziraphale took in that thought for a moment, a sudden feeling of Deja-vu hitting Aziraphale as he recalled two years ago with his and Crowley’s trials; both their offices figuring out they had been together and had stopped the end of the world together from even happening. Something in Aziraphale’s mind clicked as he remembered Anathema saying that they could have been an exiled angel, but for saving someone and then trying them for that, it seemed horrible to think about.

“I understand the feeling my dear, Crowley and I’s offices didn’t like how we did things either and had their suspicions of us as well and tried us for them after stopping the end of the world.” Aziraphale spoke somberly, recalling how Crowley had hugged him when they had gotten back to the bookshop. “But I have one question, and you don’t have to answer if your ready but, why did they hurt you?”

Iris frowned and set her phone down and tried to talk, she was sick of using her phone to communicate with; the pain she felt in her soul and bones was something that a monotone voice could explain.

She turned to Aziraphale and sighed.

Her face grimaced as nothing came forward, no sound, she did not want to force it like she had before and set herself off into a coughing fit. She frowned and deflated slightly as she curled in on herself for not even making a sound, her eyes downcast to the floor and not daring to look up.

“Iris were you trying to talk, I thought you couldn’t?”

Iris nodded and then began to mouth what she was trying to say.

“I can’t speak still, I get into a coughing fit when I do,” she mouthed silently.

Aziraphale frowned.

“Would you like me to help you, I am not a healer, but I can see if I can bring your voice back with a bit of miracleing?” Aziraphale asked.

Iris nodded, which Aziraphale placed his hand delicately on the scar on her throat and snapped his fingers with his other hand. He removed his hand; which Iris sighed a bit from discomfort; whatever healing miracle he preformed on her made her throat feel loose in a way it had not been before.

“Are you okay Iris?” Aziraphale hesitated, he did not know if it would have worked after the last attempt at healing her.

Iris nodded and smiled slightly.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice was raspy still and whistled and cracked in and out.

Her voice caused Aziraphale to stare at her in disbelief that it had worked. He was surprised by how she sounded and smiled a relieved smile to her.

“You’re welcome dear.”

* * *

Iris didn’t talk much after since her voice still needed to heal and come back naturally with time; Crowley had no idea since he hadn’t heard her talk before but, Aziraphale had and had encouraged her to strike up conversation when she was feeling up to it.

Aziraphale and Crowley had both noticed that she was a bit happier after they had talked to her on separate occasions; Crowley understood that she had her fears of her situation and Aziraphale understood that she was hurt for helping someone; they both knew she was hurt for her kindness and making friends but, there was a lot that they didn’t know still, and they hoped that she would talk about her heaven experience one day; since they knew now that she was an angel since she slipped here and there.

Even if she slipped a bit, they didn’t mind but, she seemed to get a bit more careful around things and wasn’t as careless with miracles as Aziraphale and or Crowley were with theirs. She resembled a normal human being, sometimes it was a bit alarming how human she acted compared to them; she had a small amount of experience on earth, but she got the human bit down to a T.

Crowley often forgot she was an angel, as well as Aziraphale since she acted extremely human; she very rarely, if ever, used miracles, and if she did, they were minor ones that popped up here and there. The thing that found interesting was that they couldn’t sense her miracles at all, Crowley and Aziraphale could sense their own miracles if they were around each other but, for Iris they couldn’t sense them.

They were still wondering how that was possible, that her miracles were so subtle they couldn’t by detected even if she was standing right next to them. Iris didn’t explain how she was capable of preforming ‘off the grid miracles’, as Crowley had called them, and she didn’t seem she wanted to. Crowley assumed it had to so with whatever position she had in heaven, she had mentioned something about it before to him but, she specified what her position of power was. Crowley hadn’t said anything about what they had said to Aziraphale, keeping his promise with Iris; however, even with Iris explaining things to him, he knew that Aziraphale would have known more on heaven then he had, he didn’t remember much of Heaven and Aziraphale could fill in the gaps if he told him what Iris had said.

Besides the small things that they wanted to know more about her, they found they had learned more about her in the last few breakthroughs then anything and that was enough for the time.


	10. Then It All Fell Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware there is alot of swearing in this chapter.

Iris and Aziraphale had decided to take a walk through the park; Crowley did not want to come along since he was rather tired and decided to sleep on sofa in the back room. Aziraphale felt that some fresh air would do him so good, and Iris decided to tag along since she did not see any reason to wait around for him to get back or for Crowley to wake up.

It was a nice day for a stroll through St. James Park, like every other day that Crowley, Aziraphale, and Iris had gone to the park. It was always a refreshing sight for Iris to be out and about since she noticed things differently each time she went; from the flowers to the leaves on the trees, everything was always slightly different then the last time she had seen it.

Aziraphale enjoyed the walk and the company; even if Iris had her voice back and could strike up any conversation, she wanted now without typing it out on her cellular device, she remained silent and enjoyed hearing Aziraphale ramble about Crowley, customers, books, and various other subjects with her asking questions subtly as necessary.

Aziraphale never felt like he was boring her, nor did he think he bored Crowley either with their conversations, which was something that he always felt at ease about it. He recalled times in Heaven when they were not inclined on hearing him talk or found him boring with his constant chatter of things he enjoyed and, both Crowley and Iris knew that that was his passions and never dissed him or anything. Aziraphale never belittled Crowley or Iris about their interests either; rather he found that all three of them together made an unlikely group of friends.

Even if he really didn’t know a lot about Iris and who she was in heaven, he didn’t seem to care and had his suspicions that Heaven had tossed her out without really having her fall; however, he didn’t know why they didn’t let her fall and decided to seal her away as punishment? He knew heaven was cruel and, so did Iris, in many regards, from the few mentions of it in conversation but, it wasn’t anything detailing how they might have been or what they may have done in Heaven. Whatever the reason they sealed her away was a mystery to him, Iris was always so kind to both he and Crowley, so whatever their reason was it was beyond him.

Aziraphale shrugged of the thought and continued his walk with Iris; Iris walked besides him with their shoulders slightly slouched with her hands stuck into her jean jacket pockets. She looked around the park with a small smile on her face with her long bangs still covering her face; Aziraphale always wondered why she still had her hair in her face, but he did not want to pry into it too much.

“Are you doing alright dear?”

Iris turned to face him and nodded; the smile still drawn on her face.

“That’s good to hear, just wanted to make sure you are okay is all. Oh, they have ice cream up ahead, would you like one?”

Iris nodded.

“That would be nice thank you.”

Aziraphale and Iris stopped and got ice cream, which Aziraphale handed them a simple orange cream-sickle and he got his ice cream and began their walk again. Aziraphale continued to talk as Iris listened contently enjoying her ice cream, as he did his, until they were both finished.

“Aziraphale long time no see sunshine!” came an enthusiastic voice that came from behind, which caused both Iris and Aziraphale to turn around to see who it was.

Iris’s heart sank, she could feel her head becoming lighter, the bottom of her stomach opening at the person walking towards them. Judging by Aziraphale’s fidgeting hands he was not pleased to see him either.

“He-Hello Gabriel, long time no see,” Aziraphale said in a stuttered tone, the sides of his mouth formed into a forced smile.

 _“Why was he here, does he notice me! Oh god I shouldn’t have come out today; I don’t want to be sealed away again!”_ Iris’s screamed internally; the panic bubbling upwards and at any moment she was going to snap, either cry or beat the ever-loving Christ out of him. She could feel the panic festering into anger within her as well as grief taking hold of her; the panic had begun to fizzle out as the new waves of emotions crashed forwards on the faulty dam that was holding it all back. _“Wait, you got Aziraphale here, your gonna get him and Crowley killed if you snap now, just fucken in check till he leaves!”_

Gabriel smiled one of his cold smiles at Aziraphale and gave a sideways glance at Iris.

“Seems so,” Gabriel said coldly as he eyed Aziraphale up and down. “Seems nothings changed on your end it seems, actually there has been some change. I didn’t think you could put on more weight, but it seems that wicked creature you befriended has had its influence on you, hasn’t he?”

Aziraphale’s usual twinkle in his eyes dimmed as his eyes shot down to the ground. His arms wrapped around himself self-consciously as Gabriel poked at Aziraphale’s stomach and chuckled cruelty. A deep blush of embarrassment crossed Aziraphale’s face.

Iris face was marred with a deep frown, her anger boiling over as she stepped in the middle of Gabriel and Aziraphale to shield him from any further humiliating blows to Aziraphale.

Gabriel stared down at Iris in confusion, she stared up at him with her eyes narrowing behind her bangs. Her fists bawled at her sides.

“Who is this little garbage rat you found Aziraphale, seems they are-

_“That’s it there is no turning back now!”_

“Shut your stupid fucken mouth you violet eyed prick!” Iris shouted at him.

Deafening silence rang between the three of them, Aziraphale stared wide eyed horror, he had never heard them shout before and it startled him. Gabriel’s eyes widened as well as his face contorted between confusion and paled over into an expression that was best described as seeing a ghost. His mouth opened and closed as he stamped back.

“Wait-who!?” Gabriel stuttered, at a complete loss for words.

_“No point now, you gave yourself away, fuck it!”_

Iris pulled up her bangs revealing her face, causing Gabriel to jump back like he was close to a fire. His eyes were widened with fear. Aziraphale had never seen Gabriel as fearful as he was at this vary moment; he pulled a smile that was more of a pathetic plea than anything.

“Ic-Icarus! Been a long time since we last saw you upstairs, seems you have been doing well!” Gabriel squeaked.

“Icarus?” Aziraphale repeated in confusion till it all clicked.

Iris wasn’t having any of it, she dropped her hair back over her face and crossed her arms. She started towards Gabriel like she was on a mission, and that mission in Iris’s mind was to throw his ass into the pond in the middle of the park and let the ducks deal with him.

“Hey, Hey Icarus I hope your still not upset about…what was their name again…. Evelyn.” Gabriel began to frantically say as he dished out unapathetic apologizes; he kept walking backwards away from them but, she kept walking towards him not backing down.

Iris’s down deepened as he

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened to her, but it was my du-

“Fuck you, YOU KILLED HER AND SHE WAS THE ONLY PERSON I LOVED AND YOU COULDN’T HANDLE THAT!” Iris screamed which began to turn into sobs.

Gabriel reached out to hug her, perhaps a hug may have worked in his favor, but he was instantly launched down the walking path of the park and skidded on the ground, ripping his suit jacket and slacks along the concrete. Iris proceeded to walk down and kneel besides his body that laid on the ground, there were several bones probably broken by the way he tumbled like a crash test dummy down the path: as well as bruises taking form on his body.

“I don’t accept your apology Gabriel because you don’t mean it, you were a manipulative prick back then and you still are. You were not mine to begin with and I do not even love you, you are no sibling of mine after what you did because you were a selfish asshole that couldn’t grasp the fact that I didn’t love you like that. Never come near me or my friends again, if I so much as hear a peep that you were harassing my friends or were around this area, I will personally skin you alive and let the crow tear you apart, do you understand.” Iris whispered menacingly into Gabriel’s ear, which he nodded with his wide eyes at the ground.

“Good to hear it.” Iris smiled.

Iris got up and looked back to see Aziraphale staring at them in horror.

_“That was it, it’s all done for now, he knows and now Crowley will know. He knows who you are and what you are in its full entirely, no more beating around the bush. Your exposed!”_

Iris turned her back to both and walked away, leaving Gabriel a mess on the sidewalk and Aziraphale standing ramrod with a mixture of shock and horror swirling within him. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and did not look back even as Aziraphale called after her and tried to catch up as she speed walked towards the entrance of the park with the feeling of adrenaline still running its course through her, the edges of her vison were black as she pushed forward mechanically trying to come to terms with what she had just done.

* * *

“IRIS FOR THE LOVE OF SOMEONE SLOW DOWN!” Aziraphale shouted frantically after them as he watched as Iris just kept walking.

Aziraphale began to jog after them and eventually caught up to their pace.

“Iris- please just slow down I just want to talk to yo-“Aziraphale wheezed slightly, he wasn’t used to running or even jogging and he felt a little woozy.

Iris turned to look at him but kept on walking, her face was a dead giveaway that she had messed up terribly and wasn’t in any sort of talking mood. Judging by the route, Aziraphale had concluded they were heading back to the bookshop, probably because she had left something there and wanted to grab it quickly before leaving.

They rounded the corner, which Iris and Aziraphale made it back to the shop, which Iris opened the door and headed in and went right to the back room to gather soemthing they had left. Crowley was sprawled across the sofa but, upon seeing Iris he shot up and stared as they mechanically grabbed a bag, they had brought with them and began heading straight for the back door.

“Kid are you-

“Crowley stop her please!” Aziraphale shouted through the store which Crowley jumped up and blocked the back door exit.

“Move Crowley.” Iris mumbled in an absent, wavering tone.

Crowley looked down at them confused and looked up to see the disheveled states Aziraphale was in. He leaned on the door frame for the back room and took in deep breaths and stared off for a moment trying to recover the chase he had trying to keep up with Iris until they got back to the shop.

“What in the bloody hell happened you angel, you look like shit?”

“Tasteful phrasing dearest, just give me a moment.” Aziraphale panted slightly.

“Nothing to explain, I just need to go… like now before something happens,” Iris explained trying to push past Crowley, but he didn’t budge in the slightest.

“Why didn’t you tell us that your name was Icarus?” Aziraphale asked as he fixed his posture. “And why did you toss Gabriel across the park and shout about how he killed someone, you know I had to miracle the whole park, so they didn’t hear you, you know!”

“Wait you tossed that pompous douchebag liked a rag doll across the park,” Crowley chuckled. “That great news serves the bastard right.”

Aziraphale shot him a disapproving look.

“Crowley this is serious and not something the joke about, what if upstairs comes down to investigate!”

“Its kinda funny angel is all,” Crowley explained. “Also, if they come down, they told us they would leave us alone.”

“I told Gabriel to not bother you two or me, I kinda threatened him in the heat of the moment.” Iris muttered.

Aziraphale stared at them in disbelief.

“Oh, that’s just tickety-boo isn’t it!” Aziraphale threw his hands up, his patients seemed to wane a bit, which bothered Crowley since he hadn’t seen him loose his patients in a long time. “First you didn’t tell us you were an angel or anything and had us guess and now that the tea had been spilled it turns out you’re a higher ranked heavenly being that tossed an archangel across a park because he-

“Aziraphale, yes I’m a higher-ranking angel, no I didn’t disclose it to you because you would get all finicky about it.” Iris introjected. “So, if you would please just stop!”

Aziraphale stopped and looked over to Crowley.

“Crowley do you not see this is bad?”

“Angel, we both knew about this for a while okay, we knew they were an angel, they just kept it hidden. Hell, I was surprised when they told me.” Crowley said and then froze.

Deafening silence filled the room.

“You knew?” Aziraphale said slowly. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“Aziraphale, they didn’t want me to tell you because they knew you would get like this, they didn’t want us to get into a dispute with out offices.”

Aziraphale turned back to Iris. He felt like he needed to have a stern talking to with Crowley later about not informing him on this but, for now he had to turn to Iris.

“So, Iris, or I should call you Icarus, why did you do that?”

“You heard it Aziraphale there isn’t much to say.” Iris retorted.

“I don’t know what you are talking about first you start screaming about him killing someone close to you and then you tossed Gabriel when he was terrified of you-

“You wanna know why I tossed that ass hat across the park, huh. **HE** killed my friend E out of jealousy, **HE** manipulated me and wanted me all to himself. And finally, you wanna know what that fucken bastard did; **HE** was the one who put me in the mirror and slit my throat as I watch E die in front of me!”

Crowley and Aziraphale stared in horror as to what they had both just heard; a piercing silence filling the room around them as they stood their and realized all the awful things that must have happened to them before they were sealed away was because of Gabriel, how could he have done that to her, to torment her so after all this time, how could he do such a thing to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all are enjoying the story thus far, there is still more to come :)

**Author's Note:**

> I was just writing this for fun.
> 
> Edit 1 of probably several: apologize for those who read the first version of this story and, have to reread the first two chapters again, I was in a but of a time crunch so I decided to rewrite them; I'll repost chapter two when it is finished.


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